So now, you tell me. Was ignorance bliss or was awareness my savior? Was my diagnosis my crutch or my comfort and explanation? Should you continue sleeping through the nightmare because you just want some rest, or should you violently wake yourself up and go through the painful process of dealing with things?

Already, in order to wake up and have a chance at a productive, I need to think of every inch of my body. If I don’t do this my brain will run haywire and might suddenly decide I don’t have enough air to breathe. But hey, I could just smile, right.

I cannot count the number of people I have found on the internet who claim to have medication-free cures, who got better by just eating right, exercising, talking to their pastor. You name it, someone has written a way to get around mental illness without having to do the dreaded taboo—take a pill.

Not only is there still a lot of stigma surrounding mental health, but the nature of some illnesses is that it’s easy enough to assume you have it under control, that you’re fine or insert your excuse here. That's why it's hard to argue with someone if they believe they are truly ok.