After feeling depressed for so long, wellness feels extremely foreign and uncomfortable. With recovery, comes a new set of expectations and responsibilities. I feel pressured to function as well as I once did.

I am enrolled in three classes this semester. I have not taken this many classes since the spring of 2016. If all goes according to plan, I will be receiving my associates degree this spring. While these successes are all measures of my progress, I am terrified. All of the friends I had had when I was a full time student are either in their last semester of school, or have already graduated. Therefore, I am going to have to make new friends. It will be way more challenging this time around. When I first started school at LIM, I was in good spirits. As a freshman transfer student, I had a multitude of opportunities to facilitate connections. Making friends came unusually natural to me then; however, my latest bout of depression has destroyed my confidence. My social anxiety has returned and I have felt extremely self conscious.

In addition to my anxieties regarding school, I am worried about my career prospects. When I begin to interview for internships this spring, I am going to have to explain the gaps in my resume. My therapist advised me to take down my blog prior to conducting my job search. If my blog did not exist, it would be easier to fabricate a narrative regarding the gaps in my resume; however, I knew the risk I was taking when I started this blog nearly two and a half years ago. My values have not changed. Being true to myself is still more important to me than anything else.

My struggles with mental illness have shaped who I am today. Last year, I committed myself to at least 1000 hours of therapy. It differed from some of my previous experiences with therapy. I was accustomed to hour-long sessions of droning on about myself without receiving much feedback from my therapist. The therapy program I was enrolled in last year required me to come in each day and confront all of my problems, insecurities, and traumatic experiences that I have suppressed for several years. I worked on replacing unhealthy coping mechanisms with more skillful methods to navigate through my problems. Most importantly, I was forced to own my shit. Although I am not responsible for everything that happens to me, I am responsible for how I respond to my circumstances.

I do not believe I should have to conceal all of the hard work I have invested in myself. The way I handled myself during this time of adversity is a testament to my character. I am proud who I am becoming.