If you’ve been following me for a while you’ll know that I have depression and anxiety. I’d like to tell you that it’s recent, however that wouldn’t be much of a story would it? My delightful journey started when I was very young, we’re talking 6 to 7 years old. Who knows what the exact trigger was, maybe there wasn’t one, maybe this is just how my brain works, and I was born this way. I’ll let you be the judge.
I’m officially spilling the tea, going all the way back to my early childhood, because lets admit that’s usually where the seed is planted. No stone shall be unturned, unless I can’t remember, because let’s be honest I’m getting on now and my brain can’t store every single piece of information about my past. You’ll have to bear with me as a lot of these events have been keep in a secret box, locked with a million keys, each discarded in unknown places. Suffice it to say I have repressed quite a lot. But it’s time to share my story, for me and for you.
I’m not ashamed of my illness, I’ll tell anyone, because by sharing I could be helping someone, and that to me is worth every bad day I have to endure.