An Open Letter to Those Who Love Me Most

One of my most dominant personality traits is the fact that I want to fix everything. I don't really feel like I'm the best person to vent to about things, because I never know what to say. Instead of saying something to help, I want to fix it. I want to fix everything, even the smallest of things. Unfortunately, the one thing I can't fix the way I want to, is my mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I have watched the people around me that love me most, struggle with the fact that they can't fix me or make things better for me. I can't speak for them, but I do feel like I observe people very well, and this is what I get out of it:

My heart goes out to my parents the most. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like as a mother to take your daughter to a doctor at the age of 12 and be told she has major depressive disorder. My mom has always wanted to make things better for me. I think that's where I get my "fix it" personality from. For a long time, I think she was in denial about the fact that she couldn't fix it or make it better. It affected our relationship greatly for many years. I've come a long way, and she now knows that she can't make it better, but she has faith in me that I'll someday beat this.

My dad struggles a lot with it, I think. He's very old-fashioned and for a long time, thought that I could just change my thought process or perspective and things will get better. I've always been his little girl; his precious little angel. We are both wrapped around each other's fingers. I see it on his face that he wants to make it better for me - to take it all away so that I don't have to hurt any longer. I think he understands now that getting better isn't as easy as he thought.

My step parents have both been in the picture for a long time. My step mom moreso that my step dad. I have watched her cry countless times over the fact that someone that she considers her own child, hurts more than words will ever be able to express. My step dad thinks very logically, and for a long time, I don't think he understood me at all. But I see now that he, too, wants to see me get better.

My two best friends have been absolutely phenomenal through all of it within the last 4 years. Neither of them knew much about mental illness before they met me. They have done such a wonderful job of trying to understand me and the way my mind works. They have never shamed me for feeling the way I feel. But just like everyone else, I'm sure they wish they could take it all away too.

This is for you guys. This is for the rest of my closest friends and family that worry about me, or wish they could make it better.

I know you see me suffering. I know you see me hurting. I wish I could say that you could make it better for me. I wish I could say that your kind words, actions, and overflowing love could fix it all. I wish I could say that it was all the answer. But it isn't, and I'm so sorry that it isn't. 

I wish you all didn't have to walk on eggshells around me. There's no telling what will set me over the edge. I wish my mental illness didn't make me so unpredictable, so that you wouldn't have to be so careful around me.

I'm sure you probably wonder when I'll get better. You're probably just as impatient as I am. I wish I could say that tomorrow I'll wake and everything will be better. But unfortunately, it doesn't work like that when your neurotransmitters don't fire the way they were designed to.

I love every single one of you for standing by my side through my outbursts, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, depressive episodes, and concerns brought on by my anxiety. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be friends with someone like me. I am so sorry that you have to watch me suffer. I am so sorry that you can't make it better for me. 

Every single one of you has done such a wonderful job of standing by me and being there for me in my darkest of times. I'm sure you probably wonder if you'll have to bury me 6 feet under much too soon. I wish I could tell you that you won't have to, but I don't know what mental illness is capable of. You are all the reason why I keep holding on. I know that if I'm gone too soon, I won't get to share this life with you, and that thought kills me. 

Please be patient with me. Please be careful and delicate with me. But please don't baby me. I know that leaving me sounds much better and much easier most days than sticking by me does. But you have no idea how much sticking by me means to me. 

I know it must be frustrating to watch me wallow in my sadness and depression for days on end. I know it must be frustrating to watch my eating habits plummet. I know it must be frustrating to feel like you can't do anything to help me. But just the fact that you are there during those times, is enough to lift me up. 

Please try not to put me down, but instead lift me up with positive words or advice. But please be patient with me when I am unable to comprehend your advice sometimes. Please give me the space that I need, but learn to understand that sometimes the last thing I need, is space. Please encourage me to continue seeking professional help even if the last thing I want to do is seek it. Please continue to listen to what I have to say, even if you've heard it countless times. Please continue to support me, even if some days, it feels exhausting. There is a balance to everything, you just have to find it. I am willing to work with you in order to find the balance. 

I know you don't have all the answers. None of this is easy. It is far beyond easy. None of this is clear to me. I'm still just as confused as the day I was diagnosed. There is so much confusion, and doubt. I fear that you'll leave me at any moment. But you haven't yet, and each one of you has convinced me that you won't. I trust you. If you were going to leave me, you would have done it already. 

Thank you for noticing and caring and loving me. Thank you for not leaving me when that seemed like the easiest solution. Thank you for seeing other things in me besides my mental illness. Thank you for seeing me for who I really am, and not the negative person my mental illness makes me out to be. I love every single one of you so very much, and I would never be able to continue fighting this battle if it wasn't for each one of you. Thank you so much for not judging me for my mental illness. Thank you so much for choosing to stick by me. 

If mental illness has taught me anything, it's that I now know who sees past my demons. You see me for who I truly am, and for that, I am beyond thankful. 

One of my most dominant personality traits is the fact that I want to fix everything. I don't really feel like I'm the best person to vent to about things, because I never know what to say. Instead of saying something to help, I want to fix it. I want to fix everything, even the smallest of things. Unfortunately, the one thing I can't fix the way I want to is my mental illness. 

Throughout the years, I have watched the people around me that love me most, struggle with the fact that they can't fix me or make things better for me. I can't speak for them, but I do feel like I observe people very well, and this is what I get out of it:

My heart goes out to my parents the most. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like as a mother to take your daughter to a doctor at the age of 12 and be told she has major depressive disorder. My mom has always wanted to make things better for me. I think that's where I get my "fix it" personality from. For a long time, I think she was in denial about the fact that she couldn't fix it or make it better. It affected our relationship greatly for many years. I've come a long way, and she now knows that she can't make it better, but she has faith in me that I'll someday beat this.

My dad struggles a lot with it, I think. He's very old-fashioned and for a long time, thought that I could just change my thought process or perspective and things will get better. I've always been his little girl; his precious little angel. We are both wrapped around each other's fingers. I see it on his face that he wants to make it better for me - to take it all away so that I don't have to hurt any longer. I think he understands now that getting better isn't as easy as he thought it would be.

My step parents have both been in the picture for a long time. My step mom came into the picture right around the time I was diagnosed. I have watched her cry countless times over the fact that someone that she considers her own child hurts more than words will ever be able to express. My step dad thinks very logically, and for a long time, I don't think he understood me at all. But I see now that he, too, wants to see me get better.

My two best friends have been absolutely phenomenal through all of it within the last 4 years. Neither of them knew much about mental illness before they met me. They have done such a wonderful job of trying to understand me and the way my mind works. They have never shamed me for feeling the way I feel. But just like everyone else, I'm sure they wish they could take it all away too.

This is for the 6 of you. But this is also for the rest of my closest friends and family that worry about me, or wish they could make it better.

I know you see me suffering. I know you see me hurting. I wish I could say that you can make it better for me. I wish I could say that your kind words, actions, and overflowing love can fix it all. I wish I could say that it was all the answer. But it isn't, and I'm so sorry that it isn't. 

I wish you all didn't have to walk on eggshells around me. There's no telling what will set me over the edge. I wish my mental illness didn't make me so unpredictable, so that you wouldn't have to be so careful around me.

I'm sure you probably wonder when I'll get better. You're probably just as impatient as I am. I wish I could say that tomorrow I'll wake and everything will be better. But unfortunately, it doesn't work like that when your neurotransmitters don't fire the way they were designed to.

I love every single one of you for standing by my side through my outbursts, panic attacks, anxiety attacks, depressive episodes, and concerns brought on by my anxiety. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be friends with someone like me. I am so sorry that you have to watch me suffer. I am so sorry that you can't make it better for me. 

Every single one of you has done such a wonderful job of standing by me and being there for me in my darkest of times. I'm sure you probably wonder if you'll have to bury me 6 feet under much too soon. I wish I could tell you that you won't have to, but I don't know what mental illness is capable of. You are all the reason why I keep holding on. I know that if I'm gone too soon, I won't get to share this life with you, and that thought pains me beyond comprehension.

Please be patient with me. Please be careful and delicate with me. But please don't baby me. I know that leaving me sounds much better and much easier most days, than sticking by me does. But you have no idea how much sticking by me means to me. 

I know it must be frustrating to watch me wallow in my sadness and depression for days on end. I know it must be frustrating to watch my eating habits plummet. I know it must be frustrating to feel like you can't do anything to help me. But just the fact that you are there during those times, is enough to lift me up. 

Please try not to put me down, but instead lift me up with positive words or advice. But please be patient with me when I am unable to comprehend your advice sometimes. Please give me the space that I need, but learn to understand that sometimes the last thing I need, is space. Please encourage me to continue seeking professional help even if the last thing I want to do is seek it. Please continue to listen to what I have to say, even if you've heard it countless times. Please continue to support me, even if some days, it feels exhausting. There is a balance to everything; you just have to find it. I am willing to work with you in order to find that balance. 

I know you don't have all the answers. None of this is easy. It is far beyond easy. None of this is clear to me. I'm still just as confused as the day I was diagnosed. There is so much confusion, and doubt. I fear that you'll leave me at any moment. But you haven't yet, and each one of you has convinced me that you won't. I trust you. If you were going to leave me, you probably would have done it already. 

Thank you for noticing and caring and loving me. Thank you for not leaving me when that seemed like the easiest solution. Thank you for seeing other things in me besides my mental illness. Thank you for seeing me for who I really am, and not the negative person my mental illness makes me out to be. I love every single one of you so very much, and I would never be able to continue fighting this battle if it wasn't for each one of you. Thank you so much for not judging me for my mental illness. Thank you so much for choosing to stick by me. 

If mental illness has taught me anything, it's that I now know who sees past my demons. You see me for who I truly am, and for that, I am beyond thankful. Please keep doing exactly what you’re doing, because it’s working. I get stronger and stronger each day with your help and support.

If you or someone you know needs support right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, or text START to 741-741

Image credit: Unsplash