If you personally know me or if you follow my blog you know I haven’t been secretive in regards to my battle with anxiety and depression. I used to. I used to see it as a disease, as something that was wrong with me. As something to be hidden from the world, something to be ashamed of. Two and a half years ago I would never have told you as a teenager I had an eating disorder, or self-mutiliated myself. Five years ago I wouldn’t be willing to share that I spent years as a teenager going to therapy. Ten years ago I would never have dreamt of talking about the assaults.

I won’t lie and tell you my past isn’t a sensitive subject. But, at that same time I know what it has done to me. I know that I suffer from PTSD because of what happened. I know that I feel the angst of triggers that include sounds and smells. I know the signs when I am about to go into a depressive state. I have been willing to talk about it all because it may help someone. But, most of all, it has started a healing in me that I never dreamt possible.

Today, I ventured out into the WordPress world and stumbled across an article. The writer said that some writers are so ableist, they are beyond empathy. Sam wrote about an article from xoJane in regards to mental health. I think Sam did an amazing job in explaining how wrong of an article xoJane published and how it chose to bring to light the issues that people like he and I face. Both these articles made me want to reiterate one thing: never, never ever, never ever ever give up because your life matters.

It doesn’t matter how small your step, how slow you get back up, how delayed you are in getting out of bed. All that matters is the fact that you took that step, you got back up, you got out of bed.  You aren’t better off dead. You aren’t better off alone. You aren’t better off forever institutionalized. You aren’t better off highly medicated that you cannot have a life. Your life matters. It always has. It always will. Screw everyone that has come into your life that says otherwise.

I know what depression does. I know the agony it causes inside of you. I know the demons that depression and anxiety bring along for the ride. I know the dark thoughts, the whispers to push you completely off the edge. I know the loneliness you feel because the stigma that comes with mental illness. I know the feeling of the warm tears that gather on the floor of your bathroom. I know the act you put up that comes along with trying to hide your affliction, but, oh my darling your story doesn’t have to end where someone has dog eared. You are the author of your saga not them. You do not deserve to die. Write your story.

Your life matters. You may not ever fully heal from your mental affliction. But, that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have the life you want. The life you deserve. That doesn’t mean you are not entitled to happiness. Just because you are suffering does not mean it would be better if you were dead. I understand it can take a toll from the people you love too. That still doesn’t mean life would be better without you in it. Never. Give. Up. There are people out there willing to take your hand and walk with you. To support you and love you. All for one simple reason. Your. Life. Matters.

Praying for strength and healing for you today. xoxo