Tomorrow I turn 29. I don’t mind growing older and I even used to love the idea of turning 30. To me, 30 sounds like the age you have your life together. Unfortunately, the last couple of years of depression and anxiety have left me feeling further away from being “together” than ever.
28 was marked by what I kept deeming as failure. My depression kept telling me I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t worthy of love. I was alone. I felt like I was failing in my relationships, failing in my mental health, and failing in my decision to make such a big move. For a good chunk of 28 I felt like every decision I made was the wrong one and I had a lot of trouble trusting myself.
However, as I’m about to become 29 I’m feeling cautiously optimistic. While the last year held a lot of grief, sadness, and loneliness, I feel like I’ve found my footing. With each round of depression I learn a little bit more about myself and it’s slowly becoming easier to navigate the world in spite of my mental health struggles.
Lately I’ve been a huge fan of mantras and words to help me in my fight, and for 29 I hope to live by the word resilience. I know that depression will always be a part of my life but I am proud of the fight I’ve been putting up.
Finally, it feels important to state that part of the reason I started this project was because each time I was brutally honest about my mental health I received so much love and support from people I hadn’t realized I had in my corner. I want to thank those people for not only keep me safe, healthy, and able to reach 29, but for helping to inspire Mental Health, Actually.
Kyla. Brittany. Katie. Chantal. Heather. Rick. Rachel. Laken. Danielle. Hayley. Tanisha. Lindsay. Lauren. John. Literally all of the Swans. My therapist, Melissa. And the person I called (sometimes more than) once a week, sobbing, my mom.
I feel like I’ve never given you a proper thank you and having made it to this stage of my fight is because of you.
Mental Health, Actually 