Since we’re doing this cycle for mental health I thought it fitting to write this post about my personal experience with mental health challenges.
In my early twenties I suffered from depression for about 2 years. It was rotten. Every morning straight after the blissful haze of awakening, I would feel a kind of hollowness, that nothing was right. However, I was lucky. Breda, my mum, was amazing. She understood that what I was feeling was complex, and that it needed to be addressed by a person who understood that particular type of complexity. She understood that I needed to be helped by someone who was qualified to help. But beyond her understanding of the need for that help, she also held no stigma about mental health issues or about opening up and accepting that sometimes getting help is necessary.
My problems were relatively minor in the scheme of things, and some of it had to do with the social anxiety associated with the processes of discovering my own identity. But that is not to belittle how I was feeling. The difference between the angst of identity development and the continuous deadening feeling from depression are now clear and discernible in my mind.