who i am (and what i'm not)

I'm still me.

J says I'm simple to understand - I desire to be loved and to show love to others. I seek the approval of those around me, and their opinions deeply influence my thoughts and actions. If anything, depression and anxiety have helped me to understand more of who I truly am. Losing interest in some of the more trivial things of life has made me realize what is really important - my relationships with other people. Becoming uncomfortable with small talk has encouraged me to have meaningful conversations with those closest to me. 

I'm still the same person I was before becoming vocal about my issues. I still love musicals, ship Rumpelstiltskin and Belle in Once Upon a Time, enjoy shopping for everything and nothing, and dislike salads. Sure, sometimes I might seem "down". I might excuse myself from social obligations if they seem too "awkward". But although I might act a little different, I haven't changed all that much. 

Depression and anxiety may be a part of me, but they are not me, because I am more than mental illness. It doesn't need to define me anymore than a fractured arm defines a nine-year-old girl wearing a sling. Even my darkest thoughts are not who I am. 

I am twice adopted, first by my parents and then by God. I am really short, so short that sometimes I surprise myself...and my boyfriend...and my boyfriend's friends...by how short I am. I have a ravenous sweet tooth. I like journaling. My face gets really red whenever I eat something that is spicy in any way, no matter how small. I long to be appreciated, needed, and loved. But none of these things define me as much as this: most importantly, I'm God's child - I am His. None of this has changed.

* * *

If someone confides in you that they struggle with mental illness, first: feel honored. It probably took a decent amount of guts to tell you, and it shows that you are considered trustworthy and reliable. Second: don't freak out. You don't need to "fix" them - in fact, they most likely aren't asking you to, so there's no need to make every coffee date a planned-out counseling session or feel inordinately responsible for their psychological wellbeing. You can still encourage and edify; you can be sensitive and understanding without having to step around figurative eggshells or being afraid of saying the "wrong thing". Remember that their illness is not them, so you shouldn't allow it to be taken out of proportion in your friendship.

* * *

I'm still here. Beneath the self-doubt, over analyzation, irrational fear, and occasional hopelessness, I'm still the same twenty-something with big dreams and random ideas. If I choose to tell you that about my struggles, I'm not asking you to take them away or fix them. Only Jesus can take that darkness away. I'm not asking you to coddle me, excuse me, feel sorry for me, or treat me differently. I'm simply inviting you to stand by my side as I make my way towards the light. 

Because despite it all, I'm still me.