On March 14th, I got this idea for a little micro blog. I grabbed my camera, took the pic, went off to work. Right before my lunch break, I had a few minutes and I wrote. I wrote about my daily medication I take for my depression with anxiety. I stated I wasn’t ashamed and it is the biggest tool in my arsenal to keep it tamed.
Little did I know, that quickly written ditty would speak to thousands of people battling the same disease I do. I went viral. In the blogging world, viral means a photo, micro blog, or blog article rapidly is liked, shared, commented on, posted on multiple platforms and pages.
At one point, I wanted this. I was jealous of others going viral. Then I didn’t. I was comfortable with where I was in my writing and my followers. A slow growth. For I finally recognize I am not in the blogging world for the likes and shares or number of followers. I am writing because it is do or die. I HAVE to do this. I don’t really know why. But for me, it is now a part of who I am.
Rapidly, the post is liked and commented by family and friends. Because they are amazing like that. The snowball effect. It becomes bigger and bigger. I become more panicked, overwhelmed, and it is all too much. The praise, encouragement, words from complete strangers. I don’t deserve it. I am no different from anyone else struggling with this disease. Brave. Courageous. Strong. I don’t feel this way. Often times, I am defeated, sad, scared, and tired. All I did was talk about me and how I handle my depression.
At first, I was flabbergasted. Excited. Then, I cried. I couldn’t breathe. Panic sets in. I wanted it all to stop. I stepped away to focus and calm down. Then I would come back and it would be bigger and bigger. I couldn’t keep a handle on it. Sounds pretty dumb huh?! Why wouldn’t I be thrilled? My face is all over the internet. A very important message to me was getting seen and others were finding the strength to speak up.
I felt very alone. I wanted someone to laugh with me when I was told I was weak and needed to be shot or that I was a drug pushing whore. I wanted to share this really exciting yet equally terrifying event with someone special. I am blessed with a group of fellow writers that cheered me on, pushed me back up, and gave me the reasoning to keep calm.
God wasn’t just laughing at my plan, He gave me a whole big whack on the back of the head. I was perfectly fine where I was in my writing and who saw it. I WAS comfortable. Content. Careful. In control. He reminded me that He is in control. He is working constantly in my life. He has a purpose and plan for me. He is making me get uncomfortable. He is pushing me to get out of my secure little box. He is working in me and for me.
I am very proud of this message. I am honored and humbled to the core. I am not taking the responses or the courage it took some individuals to reach out to me and share their stories lightly. However, I feel a new sense of responsibility. To be the voice. To be the face of mental illness. I worry I will disappoint. Be a failure.
Honestly, I am scared. I don’t know what I am suppose to do next. There must be a reason. Right?! Because God doesn’t do anything without a purpose. I am unsure and confused. Lost. I would like Him to just tell me already! Everyday, I think my words are just going to dry up. And what is a blog without words. Ugh! This is where I have to trust and to have faith in Him.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. For believing this message needed to be heard. For sharing your story with me. For the kind words, defending me, and lifting each other up. Because you did. You joined me in becoming strong together. You joined me in helping lift the stigma of mental illness. You ARE brave, strong, courageous, and inspiring.
Thanks for sticking around. You are becoming part of my lovely.