Taking the plunge

Some people are brave. Not me. I would much rather spend my life struggling to survive than to admit that I need help. Showing people that I need them, that I don't have it all together, is one of my very biggest fears. Because when people know that you're weak, you become vulnerable.

Sometimes, though, you come to a point where you realize that living in survival mode isn't really living; it's the appearance of life where there is none. I've been living that way for a long, long time. I didn't want to recognize that something was terribly wrong with the way things were going on. It was much easier to berate myself for being lazy than to recognize that it's just NOT NORMAL to feel utterly hopeless, to cry for no reason, to feel like getting out of bed in the morning will be the death of you.

So, inspired by the bravery of my friend Emery and the wise words of my aunt and Rene, I've decided to get some help. Yesterday I went to the health center and saw the walk-in counselor. I was screened to see if I'm really in need of help, and was told that yes, I do need some help.

I know that getting help for my depression and its root causes will be a long process. It's especially difficult because I've spent such a huge part of my life figuring out ways to hide the symptoms and pretend like everything is ok. But I know that God has so much more for me...so much abundant life.

I can't wait to start crawling out of this pit and see what is in store for me on the outside. In the sun. In life.


I want this girl to be REAL.