Whenever something happens, in school, at work or even at home, people always ask
"What did you learn from this?"

What I learned?

It's been two months since I was released from the hospital.

I guess ever since I was young I had always felt the way I did.

But I don't really want to get into that.

This is such a hard thing to explain but I will do my best to do so.

The minute I saw Melanie that Friday morning, I knew I was going to be okay. But, the whole ordeal was scary as all hell. I was so out of my mind, my mind was not even with me. I was in another world. My mind was so focused on what I had done, that I wasn't able to focus on anything else, including basically living.

I made my way into school that day, just floating. I had no idea what I was doing, but I made my way around to my classes and asked for my work, and asked what we were doing the next week.

I had no idea when I would be back. I didn't know where I was going, but I knew it was somewhere that would give me what I needed.

I remember three reactions clearly.

My spanish teacher was concerned, I could see it in her eyes and in the way she talked to me. She hoped that I got better, and it felt good that someone cared.

The chem teacher was next. I told him I was leaving for the hospital, but didn't specify where. But he guessed, and kinda hugged me across the shoulders and used that stupid voice he uses, "Get better, dude." He may be an asshole, but I knew he cared.

My junior english teacher was my favorite though. When I told her, she knew what was going on. And she was happy, but she was also concerned. She told me to bring a book. I knew she cared a lot. She is like an older sister I never had. She gives me advice and guides me through situations I face in my everyday life. She is such an asset. She makes me smile.

It's weird now. I used to feel nothing but sadness and emptiness. Wanting to die everyday was what I was used to, I couldn’t remember the last time I was truly happy. But ever since I came home from the hospital, things have been so amazing and I have never felt better in my life.

But, it's such an odd feeling, being happy.

I was so used to being so sad all the time, that the sadness not being there was, I suppose, uncomfortable.
It was like a safety blanket I suppose. It was something I knew would always be there, no matter what I did.
Even if everyone left me, I knew that my sadness was always going to be there. Even though it beat me up everyday, I still felt as if I needed it to function.

It was always something I carried around, something I always had with me. It was like a cancerous tumor, I suppose. It started out as just a "lump" but that lump was me. Sometimes I would just be a lump on a log. But slowly, the lump became something larger, and more noticeable. Soon enough, it became a part of me. Something that was a part of me. Something that made me who I was. It was cancerous though, deadly to my being. It was slowly killing me; I knew it. But I didn't think it would be worth it to take care of it.

The place I went to was so nice. It used to be a retirement home, so it had a roomy feel to it. Other than the nurses, you wouldn’t have been able to tell it was a hospital. Everyone was really nice, and understanding. They didn’t judge, and didn’t ask any questions I was uncomfortable answering.

I knew why I was there, and so did they.

But I was there because I needed to. I needed to take care of myself for once in my life, and not worry about what was going to happen afterwards.

As of today, I am happy living my life.

I have learned that I am only human. I can't please everyone. And as for my mind, it's not just a open wound anymore. Sure, I'm never going to be "cured" of my depression and anxiety. I will still have days when I feel like utter s***, but it's not everyday anymore.

I now go through my days and enjoy my life. Enjoy the little things, and all the things I couldn't see before because I had my mask of depression on.

The mask I wore was something I couldn't seem to take off. No matter what I tried, it would never budge. The mask was how people saw me, I thought. I always thought that nobody saw me for me, they only saw the mask of deception I wore everyday.

I distinctly remember the first night I was at the hospital. I looked at myself in the slab of dull metal they called a mirror, and for the first time in a long time, I recognized myself. But I didn't see myself as a troubled teenager, or a boy or a girl. I just saw me. Everything that had happened in the past had lead up to the moment in time. I looked at my reflection in the eyes, and told myself,
"You're going to be okay."

From that night on, I vowed to myself that I would do anything and everything in my power to make my life worth living.

And since then, I have.

It's been two months since I got out of the hospital and it has been the best time of my life.

What I learned?

I learned how to be happy.

I learned that life is a game, and there are going to be times when you have no idea what the hell is even going on, but you just have to remember that there is a prize at the end of the game; happiness.

It's been a really, really long game for me. And this game that I've been given, wasn't the best from the beginning. But, I've learned to work the system in a way. Find the shortcuts that make things easier on myself.

I've learned that not everything is meant to be perfect. Society today has expectations that are so ridiculous. And people will tell you with their last breath that "Society has no effect on me" or "Don't let society bring you down."
I think what people aren't realizing, is that WE are society. Society is made of every single person on this earth. And even though people say that they don't care about what society says about them. The truth is, they may not care about what OTHERS think of them, but they most certainly do care about how they think of themselves. We make standards for ourselves. Society itself doesn't make them. WE make them, and then push them on everyone else. Making all standards impossible. But, I have learned that even though I am not what everyone wants me to be, I am happy being me.

I have learned how to appreciate the things in my life, and not to think about the negatives all the time. Hell, nobody wants to be around a Debbie Downer all the damn time.

I learned that my life is going to be great, but only if I make it great. Everything happens for a reason, and change starts with me.

As of today, I am 2 months clean of self-destructive behaviors. That part of my life is behind me, and I don't plan on taking a trip down Memory Lane any time soon. But, the only way people are going to know about what depression and anxiety does to people, is to talk about it. Listen to it. Learn about it.

I feel that a lot of mental health issues get swept under the rug. People will always say, "We care greatly about the mental health of our people"

But when someone comes to them with any type of mental issues, they tell them to suck it up and deal with it.
We are taught from a young age that telling people how you feel about something is good. But as we age, and see what telling our emotions does, we start to keep our mouths shut.

Life is truly about being happy. You have one life to live, and it’s such a gift.

I once thought that my life was the worst gift that anyone had ever given me.

But now, I see that this gift has a hidden meaning, and a hidden purpose. And it is my job to find out what that is.
I have been wrapped in my safety blanket for 5 years. But I have since then, emerged and am slowly making my way to the real world, getting away from the false reality I was living.

Life is a beautiful struggle.

Therefore, I think it is safe to say, the struggle is real.