Growing up with mental illness they called me crazy, annoying, and angry. They looked at me differently. They’d even talk about it amongst themselves, but never offered guidance. That’s the problem with society these days. Everyone loves a party, but no one wants to clean up the mess. There are many reasons I have chosen to enlighten my readers on severe clinical depression. Not to get pity for my actions and blatant disregard for others. I write for awareness because, so many people today need help and no one really knows how to help them. Often someone’s first cry for help is his or her last and I just don’t think that’s right. In this story I will tell you about my mental health, how I hit bottom, and my getting back on track. I would like to start off by telling you a little about myself. I grew up in an upper middle class family. Never saw a financial struggle or empty fridge. I was always popular in school and played sports. My 10th grade year of high school I struggled with mental health, all stemming from my father’s unfaithfulness to my mother and low self-esteem from borderline obesity. I kept things from my mom that no child should ever have to deal with. The day she found out the guilt flooded threw my mind, impossible to …show more content…
I’m back in college and more serious than ever. I have a passion to graduate and work in hospitals as a medical diagnostic sonographer. I live on my own with my fiancé with a paid off car and a comfy king-sized bed. I rarely drink and no longer take prescription drugs. It took a lot of help and loss of pride to get to where I am. Now I can talk about it with no shame and a smile on my face. The biggest lesson I learned is that it’s okay to ask for help and you are in charge of your own happiness. I’m constantly on the look out for that girl or guy who needs a helping hand. Depression and anxiety are real. It is not a joke. So no she’s not just crazy, she just needs