so, here’s the thing

so, here’s the thing. I’ve been battling my mental health longer than I can honestly say I remember. Like, it’s *been* a thing that’s just always there, lurking in the background, like that one weird relative you sort of tolerate but also kinda dread. I mean, honestly, I don’t even know where to start because it’s a mess — an absolute, screaming, tangled mess.

So, let’s go back a few years. I was in college, right? Fresh-faced kid thinking I was on top of the world (ha!). Turns out, I was just good at pretending. I had the classic “I’m fine, I swear” mask glued on tighter than my jeans in the 90s. I’d go to class, nod along, laugh at stupid memes, the usual. But inside? Inside was a dumpster fire, slipping and sliding on broken glass and eating ice cream at 3 AM because, well, who *doesn’t* cry over existential dread and a pint of Cookie Dough?

Anyway, somewhere in the chaos, I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Cool, right? I thought so too. Except, diagnosing helped a little but didn’t fix the fact that sometimes I’d wake up and feel like I’d been hit by a truck — even if I’d overslept my alarm or was just hungover from overthinking everything. Your brain is just *that* cruel. One day I read that 1 in 5 adults experience some kind of mental illness every year. One in five! That means I’m in a club I never wanted to join, sharing stories with people who call themselves “battle-hardened” after fighting their own mental wars.

And oh, the stories I could tell. There was this one time I was convinced I was losing my grip on reality because I kept hearing my own thoughts, echoing in the void, like I was insane but also not insane enough to get committed. I’d tell my friends I was “fine” and then proceed to have a full-blown meltdown in the bathroom because I’d looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the monster staring back at me. It’s funny how your brain can turn on you, like, “Haha, you thought you were good? NOPE. Here’s a side of me you never wanted to see.”

One of the weirdest facts I found out — depression sometimes makes your brain produce less of this neurotransmitter called serotonin, but anxiety can make you produce too much adrenaline, so you’re basically oozing with stress hormones but feeling nothing at the same time. It’s like being a stressed-out zombie that’s too tired to do anything but obsess about everything. I had nights where I’d lie awake just calculating every possible disaster scenario in my head. The *perfect* recipe for insomnia, right? Oh, and did you know that some mental illnesses are actually linked to inflammation in the brain? Yeah, seems like our emotional pain might be literally *sick* brains. So, those “mental” issues? They’re as real as a broken leg, just way more complicated and invisible, which, honestly, makes society’s attitude toward mental health the biggest load of 💩 I’ve ever seen.

Therapy? Tried that. Total rollercoaster. Some days I’d walk in, ready to spill my guts, and leave feeling like I’d just taken a shower in emotional napalm. But other days? I’d feel *nothing*. Just stare at the wall, thinking, “Is this supposed to help? Am I even talking to a real human or just some person reading scripts?” Plus, meds. Don’t get me started. I was on antidepressants, but the first one made me gain 20 pounds in a month (which, thank you, emotional constipation), and the second one made me feel like I was on street drugs — so jittery I could’ve powered a small city. And the side effects? Like a bonus level in mental health roulette.

So I guess what I want to say is… it’s a goddamn marathon, not a sprint. Sometimes you’re running, sometimes you’re crawling, sometimes you’re just lying on the ground moaning about life. But the funny thing is, I’ve met people who are so open about their mental health struggles, and it’s honestly inspiring. Like, “Hey, just telling the world I’ve got my bad days, but I keep going.” Or people who joke about feeling like “a potato with anxiety” because, if you can’t laugh at it, what’s the point?

Oh, and the stigma? That thing is still alive and kicking, like some creepy zombie congress. I’ve had friends who told me to “just stop overthinking,” like my brain isn’t *literally* wired differently than theirs. Or people who say, “You just need to cheer up,” as if mental illness was a switch we could just flip off when we feel ready. Sorry, Karen, but mental health isn’t like that. It’s complex, messy, exhausting, and sometimes feels like a never-ending game of emotional Jenga, where one wrong move can send everything crashing down.

But here’s the weird part — the more I talk, the more I find that *I’m not alone*. Seriously. There’s a whole subreddit of us, sharing the worst, funniest, most awkward stories about mental health because, honestly, laughter and shared chaos are sometimes the only thing keeping me from losing my mind completely. Like that time I was crying in the supermarket aisle and a stranger just handed me a snack like I was a stray dog, and I was just *thankful*, because, wow, I needed that moment of kindness. Or that day I put my phone in the fridge because I forgot where I put it, and then spent three hours looking for my “lost” phone, which I was talking to on the entire time.

Mental health isn’t linear. There’s no magic wand, no 12-step plan that works for everyone. It’s just a flood of feelings, a tangle of thoughts, a roller coaster with extra loops. Sometimes you’re proud of making it through the day, even if all you did was get out of bed before noon. Other times, you’re a hot mess, sobbing over a canceled plan or a missed bus and thinking, “Wow, I’m so *together*.” But that’s okay. Because being real about it — messy, awkward, funny — that’s the point.

Anyway, I don’t have some profound “lesson learned” moment, because if I did, I’d probably just forget it in the next meltdown. But what I do know is that mental health is not a weakness, not a flaw, not something you should hide. It’s part of the human experience, just like eating pizza or binge-watching crappy TV. The real trick? Allowing ourselves to feel all of it without shame, and maybe, just maybe, finding humor in our own chaos.

Keep fighting, keep laughing, keep oversharing, whatever helps you breathe. We’re all in this weird, fucked-up mental health club together.

[titled] "The Messy Truth About Living With Mental Health Struggles" [username] crazy_laughter [tags]mental health, anxiety, depression, stigma, therapy, resilience, humor