Content Advisory: Please note the following content is directly or indirectly related to topics about depression, suicide, and self-harm.

I Am Me.

I thought a lot about what it would mean to create something with true deep personal meaning. that goes beyond just creating jewelry with a slogan that I hope people relate to. I wanted people to understand why I feel so strongly and so deeply towards this, I wanted to write out my story.

I have been depressed and anxious for as long as I can remember, but for about a year and a half, I was so severely depressed that I contemplated ending my life every morning when I woke up and every night before I went to bed. With only my 9-5 job holding it together.

That year of non-stop depression came to its culmination as I sat on my couch in our living room. There, on a crisp, but beautiful sunny day, I looked out onto our pond and thought about the different ways I could end my life.

That day, I thought, would be the day. I felt so immensely calm, numb to any feeling, so rational, that I knew it had to be today.

Then came, how I would do it. I had thought of multiple things before, and nothing seemed to appeal to me. I didn’t want to scare anyone, I just wanted to be gone. It was clear. In that moment, as I looked at the pond, drowning was the best way to go. My mother was napping, she wouldn’t hear me leave, and she could find me, floating, peacefully. That would surely be the best way to go.

As I am here writing this to you, surely you can realize that I didn’t go through with it. At that moment as I was trying to figure out how one even drowns, I screamed for my mother. Terrified by my thoughts I told her that I needed serious help, that every day, I wanted to end my life and that I knew that my story couldn’t end here, in the pond where her and I swim in the summer.

A week later, I started an outpatient program, with people like me, who could live their daily lives from 9-5 but suffered some of the deepest demons. These people changed my life, made me feel heard, understood, made me feel like I could cry for no reason whatsoever, and no explanation was needed to why. They understood me more than my best friends, my family ever would. I won’t say they cured me, I will never be cured but I do smile a lot more than I used to.

I read something once that said “Are you considered suicidal if you would do anything to die, but refuse to kill yourself?” I have never resonated with something more. Suicide is far more than the act committed, and mental illness is far more than the diseases that plague it. It’s about time we start talking about them, seriously. Because people with mental illness aren’t crazy, they’re beautiful, compassionate, creative, they’re just like you. And I, I am the depression, the anxiety, the suicidal thoughts, but in the end I am me.

As I write this, I hope this brings you some solace, in a currently crazy world. I hope you know that even in your darkest moment, you are not alone. You stand with thousands of people who have felt what you feel, and you can only be you.

Talk. Share. Help.