I'm not alright

Recently there's been a lot going on in the community that you've probably heard about (if not, I recommend Ventum's journal about what happened and what you can do about it). The nasty underbelly of this community has shown itself, and people have suffered for it. But let me get one thing straight: this is not the time to be pointing fingers and breaking away. It's a time to come back together better for it. We've seen the damage that mere words on a screen can do, and I hope we can all take steps to avoid it in the future and increase the support and friendship we show to one another.

But the anxiety and grief this past month has put me through has me wondering if something needs to change. I want to step away from Deviantart and leave all this drama behind to focus on the wonderful community on Flickr (who recently gave me 400 followers). But I can't. I want to be there for all of you, to let you know there's someone here who understands and wants to help. It's not the time to abandon ship, but to fix the leaks.

I've been doing my best to hold together through all of this. As first Llortor and then Tamani began posting those terrible messages, I've been saddened, angry, and fearful. Though my interactions with these two had been limited, to think that anyone would be pushed to extremes by other members of this community disgusts me. But ultimately, it's a reminder of a simple truth: I'm not alright either.

Depression and anxiety have been my constant companions for years now. Success in my life, especially in my schooling, was almost being taken for granted. I pushed myself too hard, and when things began to crumble, I only sank deeper within myself. I put up a happy facade all through high school and college, and no one suspected a thing. I got so good at pretending to be alright that it became automatic. That all changed when I received my LDS mission call to Germany. It was the perfect place, I was always told I'd do great, and I was excited. But the immense stress of that sudden and complete change of lifestyle finally cracked my facade, and years' worth of mental anguish came flowing forth. So I'm still here, taking my pills and meeting my counselor. No matter how many people tell me it was the right thing to do, every day I wake up under my own roof is a new reminder that I failed.

I don't want to make this about me. I'm doing better than some out there. But I just felt like I needed to get this off my chest. I don't want to have to pretend for you. I want you to know I understand.

If you actually bothered to read this far, I thank you. There's so many others posting their own stories that I couldn't be upset that mine was missed. But if it wasn't, thank you for caring enough to listen. I'm sorry to burden you with yet another weighty life.