What started as dramatic mood swings and fits of rage in College turned into suicidal idealizations, penning notes, creating plans but, never being able to follow through in the end. It was never about wanting to die, it was just not wanting to exist in a numb painful misery. The hardest part for a lot of people is reaching out when they are struggling. It’s intimidating and uncomfortable. For men, in particular, we live in a culture where they often feel pressure to conform to an unrealistic ‘tough guy’ image. Our perceived masculinity seems to decline with any single expression of our vulnerability. We are told that real men are not supposed to be weak, break down, or certainly not cry. It was crying on the bathroom floor of my apartment for no reason that made me realize I needed help. Once diagnosed with depression and anxiety I knew what I was fighting but, didn't know how to fight it. It took others encouraging me to try different things, medication, exercise, sharing my experiences for me to find calm in the chaos. Once I began sharing and embracing my story I started to feel hope. Years later I have a full toolbox of strategies that have allowed me to get to a place of stability and dare I even say happiness. I don't share my story for sympathy, instead, it's for those who are still struggling. I see you, I feel you and while I know I can't change the way you're feeling. Just know you're not alone and it can get better
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