I’m Not Who You Think I Am

The following post was written in October 2018. I meant to post it. I managed not to. I’m posting it right now for two reasons:

(1) when I am suffering the most, I don’t really like to let people know. I don’t want the pressure of having people worry about me. I think many others who struggle share this habit of keeping the pain to themselves in the moment. So let this be another reminder to reach out to your people. Our worst can feel very burdensome, and it helps to have our loved ones remind us they are there for the fun times and the hard times.


(2) upon rereading this, although I can’t say these things will not feel true in the future, I can say that I’m doing much better even after a few short months. I remember these feelings vividly. I felt them for a long time. Many of them no longer plague me continuously. I don’t feel so hopeless today or generally these days. So let this be another reminder that truly, it gets better. Pain is temporary.

(On that note, this post also features highlights from silly Snapchat selfies+musical song lyrics I posted from October 2016-2017 which, looking back, also highlight how much better I am doing since then.)

Here is the post:

I never meant to portray myself as strong. I remember soon after the first post I ever did I had a thought like oh, the people reading this think I’m somehow through the pain. I remember thinking right before I posted it that I was in the eye of the hurricane, though I would never have believed just how true that would turn out to be.


But I realized I had shared this vulnerable thing with such confidence that it gave off a sense of hindsight that I didn’t really have. I was still in it. I still am. I shared what I shared because I realized it was true, and I realized how much I had needed to hear those words for years. I thought if I could give to someone what I wish someone gave to me, it would be worth it. I also shared it because I was finally just in a place where I could say it was true, though now I realize how little I had really accepted when I revealed it.

I was and have been showered with support and camaraderie and I am so grateful for all of it, and I am grateful I have been able to do what I hoped which is help anyone.

But I just want to be clear, I’m not someone who has it figured out.


For the first year or so of my posting I referred to what I was doing as a public meltdown. I sometimes don’t want to share how bad I can feel, especially now when I’m trying so hard to fight and encourage others to do the same. Much more than ever I can visualize how many people are out there suffering in total silence, wishing they could do what I’ve done.

I am torn between conflicting thoughts and feelings and messages. I am strong. It has taken immense courage to do what I’ve done. It has taken perseverance, confidence, outside support, and an incredible financial toll to do what I’ve done. Yet I’ve done it while suffering so deeply. I never said to myself, “I’m strong enough to do this.” I’ve just done it, and now I can look and see all I’ve done.

I haven’t always believed in myself, I certainly have not always believed in the possibility that any of this would work out. But what I’ve known and chosen to act upon is unwavering knowledge of what is right, what is just.


Perhaps my rock solid moral compass has come across as personal strength. I want to clear it up. Who I really am is depressed, sensitive, exhausted, heartbroken, devastated, and hopeless. And though I want it to be known that this is who I am, I don’t want these things to be confused with weakness, because that’s not true either.

For the sake of the part of me that still feels invisible, I want to put this all out here. I am human. I am in pain. I’m still fighting. And for everyone cheering me on, I hope you understand what an impact you’ve made on me.


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