I spent the night before I took this picture in bed sobbing. As my tears dried, I lay there drained. Motionless. Lost. I envisioned myself leaving existence. Clean slits up my wrists. Warm blood cascading down my flesh in a steady flow. Drawing from my body all the pain. All the heartache. All the failure. All the disappointment. All the self-loathing. All the regret. And anger. And fear. And love. Until there was nothing left but quiet. And stillness. And peace. That’s the nearest I had allowed my suicidal tendencies in my adulthood. I awoke the next morning in a daze. My heart heavy and full of dread. I went to work. And I smiled. And laughed. I made people feel good about themselves. Feel valued. And loved. And seen. It manifests differently for all of us. I advocate for mental health because I have struggled with it my entire life, mostly in silence. I speak on it candidly these days because I know how good I am at hiding it. You never know what someone else is really going through. Mental health struggles are isolating. They leave you feeling alienated. Damaged. Misunderstood. Invisible. Crazy. Vulnerable. It’s important to know that you aren’t alone. That there are people who not only understand but empathize. Mental health is health. It is well-being. It is love. It is giving yourself every opportunity for a joyful, fulfilling existence. Reach for help when you need it. Lean on your support system. Talk about the things you keep bottled up inside. You’re not alone…and you never were. End the stigma. 
