I used to write when I was in fear, but then I realized there was only so much writing I could do until I understood how to heal. I told myself writing allows my mind to bleed onto paper, although I failed to realize that I began to hurt the more I wrote.
I ran to paper when I was unsatisfied with my life, which opened me up to dwell in that feeling for weeks. While it needed active recovery, it did not need as much of the attention I gave. And sometimes the path to healing anxious misery is as simple as seeing these fears as just thoughts and embracing them as an invitation to live rather than a burden.
So this is your life as a teenager. You are going to be both inspired and confused about what the future brings. In the last year, I have felt so deeply about things that I would not even think to cross my mind when I was 18 years old:
“I do not just overthink; I spiral into anxiety about the future to where I fail to live in the moment. I am not just guilty; I immerse myself into a dark hole of unworthiness. Instead of sadness, I let myself sit in a puddle of depression, waiting for someone to get me out.”
The funny thing was that all of this felt out of my control until I realized nobody would come save me but myself. I may not have the answers to why every day felt like it was not mine to live, but I did have the control to choose peace.
That sounds easier to say than it is. But the thing with depression is that it sees happiness as a figment of imagination:
“I question if depression is a clear glass to reality, or if our ability to stay sane is a delusion?”
This vulnerable state felt like actuality since it was the only reality I had ever known. I also sometimes saw depression as a delusion when I was in a healthy state of mind and struggled to see which feeling was the absolute truth. I was tired of feeling so helpless all the time and knew that if both states were receptive to my belief, I wanted to choose the feeling which benefited my well-being — I chose happiness.
In the daytime, I thought I was fine, and when dusk hit I went spiralling into existential thoughts. I soon realized I felt this way as I was afraid of an uncertain future. My anxiety told me if everything turned out okay, then it would eventually give out as a constant cycle of pain:
“I am hopelessly abandoned in a world they say is devoid of meaning, so what is the point of living anyway?”
I may not know why I am given this life, but I am given the privilege to feel both the love and the sorrow. The nature of life says that evil cannot exist without good. If mankind refuses to accept this principle and questions why we cannot have a world in the absence of evil, then we as humans would not have free will.
So now I write. I write regarding my feelings over fears and life does not feel so scary anymore. Life suddenly felt worth living again when I chose to see it as a gift. What if your favourite film starts playing on TV, or a person smiles at you on the street? You wake up in the morning to the sun hitting your face, and what if it all turns out okay? There will be pain, yet there will be a never-ending stream of joy if we are willing to seek it.
If you or someone you know is seeking help for mental health concerns, visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI) website, or call 1-800-950-NAMI(6264). For confidential treatment referrals, visit the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) website, or call the National Helpline at 1-800-662-HELP(4357). In an emergency, contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK(8255) or call 911