I’ve written before about grieving my mental health, but I’m especially feeling it this week. It is almost one year since one of the darkest days and seasons I’ve ever experienced. And that thought continues to linger with me the closer I get to that milestone. Consciously and subconsciously I’ve been preparing for the worst. Like I’m expecting my depression to just come out from the darkest corners of my mind at any moment. No matter if that is how depression works or not.

It’s hard to feel ok this month in the midst of all the stress and chaos at work because I’m not used to feeling ok amidst the chaos. I’m used the burnout. I’m used to the exhaustion. I’m used to the heavy mental and emotional load. But the peace, the emotional regulation, the quieting of the negative voices in my head, the seemingly okness of my world right now? That I’m not used to.

And so I’m waiting for any shoe to drop. For both shoes to drop. Anything.

But life doesn’t work that way either. It did get me thinking, though, about my own journey this last year and how I think more than anything I just want credit for making it this far.

As much as our society has worked to destigmatize mental health, there is still much more that needs to be done. We don’t give enough support and credit to those who have come out on the other side. At least from my experience, I kind of just kept moving on with my life and taking it day by day until I realized how much had actually changed.

Everyone should have a celebration every day they choose to stay here with us. Not because we need them to be better, but because choosing to fight in the darkness until the light finally comes is one of the hardest and bravest choices you can make.

I always hesitated to give myself credit when I was working through my depression. I didn’t do it alone, and I will never say I did. I couldn’t have done it alone. But I also did pull myself out of the depths of despair on multiple occasions.

I recognized the state I was in, even if it took me awhile. I continued to reach out to friends and family. I asked for help. I got myself to therapy. I booked my doctors appointment to talk about medication. I finally decided to take medication because I couldn’t manage it myself anymore. I chose to stay and work through it all.

I did all that. I continue to do all of that. And honestly I deserve credit for that.

Because it wasn’t easy. Because everyday no matter how much I was functioning, I was also drowning. And now I’m on land letting the sun dry me off. I can finally breathe. I have my hard days. But mostly, I can breathe.

I’ll never forget what I went through. It shaped me in ways I never wanted and never knew I needed. No one will ever truly understand my experience because I was the only one who experienced it. And yet, I also need to honor my experience. Honor my pain. Honor my growth. Grieve everything I went through and everything I lost. I am no longer the girl I was before my depression, nor the girl I was during my depression. I am someone forged anew by pain and life and loss.

And that’s ok. It’s actually more than ok.

I may not be as understood or seen or heard by everyone in my life as I’d like or as I had hoped. But I am learning to understand, see, and listen to myself and my own voice. I’m learning to trust myself and not make myself smaller. None of us deserve a life of solitude, so please don’t hear me say I’m just going to live in isolation with these feelings. I will continue to communicate my needs and wants, while also learning to live in the middle rather than the extremes.

But until then, I’ll focus on what I can control. I’ll focus on giving myself the credit I deserve and not shrink my growth for the comfort of others. I’ll continue to have empathy for others, but even more importantly have empathy for myself. I’ll give as much as I can without depleting myself entirely.

I have grown and changed and I am immensely proud of that. Whether anyone else is, too, I’m not sure. But I’m choosing to trust my own voice, my own opinion, and my own growth. I am here today and I am proud.