Look at me. I am a whole person.

Am I now The Depressed and Anxious One? 

Do you feel compelled to be extra gentle with me now that you know?

Are you seeing my past actions in a new light and thinking, "ah, that's why"?

Are you going to interpret my future actions with this new spice thrown in the mix?

Are your expectations of me dramatically lowered now?

Will you forever see the words "DEPRESSED" and "ANXIOUS" tattooed on my face?

Is the woman you know me to be now painted the color "mentally ill"?

These are my fears.

What have I done?

Why did I tell you?

---

These are my fears, truly. I fear that you will look at me in a whole new light now that I've come out. Because I looked at myself differently when I learnt there was a name for my suffering. I questioned everything I did, or said, or thought or even felt. Did I do that because I'm depressed? Am I feeling this way because I'm anxious? Why did I just think that about myself? Was that real or in my head? 

Before I knew what was happening to me, my crisis was different. I described it in 2007 when I was nearing the end of a depressive episode:

I could not see. I was blind and deaf,

and numb to everything.

All I could feel

was a sense of emptiness engulfed

by a weight that seemed

to fill it all. I could not decide

if it was anger or pain or sorrow

or regret. I cried. I cried.

It seemed like all I could do.

There was nothing I hated

more than myself.

The mirror denied me,

refused to show who I was.

It made me doubt me. Is that

who I had become?

It would not break, that mirror.

I screamed at it inside myself

Hating that monster it reflected.

The monster who had taken over

me, who made me do things

I didn't want to, who made me watch

as it took away my life

little by little. Little by little

I saw it fall away:

The night went first and then

the bright dawning of tomorrow,

the weeks were gone, the months

disappeared, the years were crushed

to dust and my future lay bare before me,

dead and gone, torn away particle by particle.

And it made me watch.

But, after I accepted the fact that I was, in fact, ill and not irrevocably lost to myself, I faced a whole new problem. One of not being able to see past the label. Of being unable to be kind to myself, without treating myself like someone delicate, weak and sickly. And it took me time to teach myself that I am not the illness and the illness is not me. I have a name. It's Lavanya. I had a full and happy childhood. I have good memories and bad memories just like everyone else. I wrote poetry growing up. I love animals and used to talk to insects as a child. My friends are wonderful; they think I'm funny and weird and they love me for it. I'm not Depression. I'm not Anxiety. I'm Lavanya. Lavanya is a human being.

If it took me time to see that about myself, it's understandable that it should not come naturally to you to see past my illness. So, now that I have exposed my secret, my biggest fear is that you will see me differently too. I had the incentive to teach myself to see past all that. But you don't.

Its true, depression and anxiety do explain many of my behaviors and actions in the past, and will in the future. But, it is important for me to realize that there is more to me than just that. If I don't, I can never live a full life. It is important for you realize it because if you do, maybe you can live a full life, or you can help a loved one like me live a full life. No one should be afraid that they will look to others or themselves like a sickly, grey shell of a person today, when they seemed perfectly fine yesterday just because they confided in someone about a mental illness. Building awareness about the conditions I suffer from, and come across has been an important part of my journey. Becoming aware means that labels don't take away from a person's personhood. It means that we can be whatever we are without fearing judgement, intentional or not. And judgement there will be, just because it's a normal response, but awareness questions flash judgements. Become aware, and maybe a depressed loved one will feel safer around you. Because depression is more common that you may think. And depression is deadly.

I want you to really look at me. I am a whole person.

Now, if the person reading this is someone who thinks or knows they're depressed, I want to say this: you might find yourself asking those same questions I asked myself. The ones about why you thought, did or felt something. It's part of the healing process. It's what you learn to do in therapy. It's what you do when you are learning how to be more self aware. The questions are hard. They will have answers you don't want to know. They will even bring you down a lot, and frustrate you because you will constantly be second guessing yourself. You will get tired of all the thinking. You will envy other people because, to you, it will seem like they don't think about these things and just float through life effortlessly. Trying to become more self aware will make you feel weak and sickly. So, remember, there is more to you than you can possibly imagine. There is a depth to you that can be loved even if you can't see it. You are not a shell of a person. You are full of all of the mushy, gooey, crunchy bits that everyone else is. You have a name and a face and a voice that is yours. You have a past and a future. You have a story. Your illness is only a small part of everything that makes you even though it feels like it has engulfed your entire being. Look in the mirror. You are a whole person.