Growing up, I suffered anxiety and depression. I was self diagnosed by my best guy friend in 2012. From there, I learned of my mental illness. I had it for as long as I existed. I just never acknowledge because it didn’t seem to affect me during my childhood. If I were to experience it, I would put myself in an overthinking drive. It’s a non-stop process. The only way to trigger the attacks is either my mother or some conflict in a relationship. Mostly my mother affects them. She doesn’t know that she’s the source to my mental illness. It’s horrible to blame your mother for your mental illness. But it is what it is. I usually cope with it by using comedy, music, or therapy talk with close people in my life. But I do feel that I’m still suffering silently.
It’s not fun. Each attack I suffer, my mind and body gets very tired. I pray that things will become better. However, my anxiety doesn’t say so otherwise. When I lived with my mother, my mental health was bad. I was on and off with her. I grew up angry and depressed. Usually, I’m very quiet about it. It started showing in reality after I gave birth to my son. Being a new mother mixed with anxiety/depression is not a good thing. I got out of my mother’s roof within 2 weeks. I still kept touch with her, however, she does tend to trigger them here and there. The worst one was today. After the crap my mother gave me on Sunday, I had to suffer with loads of anxiety. Luckily, I didn’t suffer alone. My own family and new family heard me out. They supported me with lots of reassuring.
I’m happy to know that I’m loved. In a way, my mental health improved within the past 6 months. But I still feel my anxiety and depression won’t be leaving me. It’s still a part of my life. The only thing I could do is cope the best I could. Hopefully, I’ll feel good about myself without any bad thoughts hovering over me.
