I have lived my whole teenage years on social media. Post after post I have been exposed to different topics, but one that I have seen are posts surrounding mental health. As someone who grew up in a household where mental illness simply meant that you weren’t worshiping God enough or it was a sign you were a bad person, my family never spoke about mental health. It wasn’t until I was way into my teenage years (like 18 years old) when I realized that my anxiety and depression wasn’t a reflection of my actions or a form of punishment. Not only was I surviving undiagnosed, but I was also unaware. I had no understanding of what this intense amount of uncalled for sadness was coming from or trying to explain to anyone why I brushing my teeth in bed seemed like climbing a mountain. At one point I was becoming scared to leave my house because I didn’t know what these anxiety attacks were for. I have since been on a self-learning journey of having a basic understanding of what mental health is. In one of our classes we learned about mental health disability, and I was taken back by the title. I never even thought of myself for having a disability. Reading the article about how being a good disabled person resonated with me because I have always had to push past the hard times because of the 0 flexibility that I was surrounded by. On days where I couldnt stop crying, I would put on mascara so that it would “force” myself to stop crying unless I wanted to look “stupid.” Although there is always the normal amount of forcing yourself to be positive in a public setting or work environment, I found myself forcing myself to put my struggles to the side when I was around my family because of the heavy stigma it carried. I was not allowed to rest unless I was sick. Because I wasn’t given the space to feel my emotions, it has honestly come with detrimental effects and in turn made everything worse. I didn’t turn a corner until after I hit rock bottom and my parents finally decided to listen and understand. I’ve now started getting treatment, but I feel embarrassed or ashamed to have this illness because even though I know that the stigma around mental health is null, I was still raised that way, so for me to accept my illness is a whole different step that I have to work through. Lastly, my own journey towards increasing my knowledge around my religion has shown me the compassion, love, and empathy that God has for those struggling with mental health issues. I discovered that struggling with mental health was not a form of punishment or made me a bad person at all. Right now, I am in the weirdest stage of my life where I have a wider understanding of myself and my issues that I am dealing with, but I am still working towards accepting it and myself + be more compassionate and patient with myself.