Last year, I finally made the decision to take a stand towards caring for my mental health. I was determined to do whatever it took to do what I had known was right. I knew if I had persevered through the difficult moments of getting back on track, things would eventually improve. Over time, life would become more normal again. Getting through those hard parts is the hardest part when fighting for your mental health. It can make you choose between a good and bad decision.

For seven years, I was fighting a fight that I would eventually lose at. I couldn’t see the benefits of doing what was right. I needed to care for my mental health in the ways that suited me. I understand it required being responsible. I focused on doing what was right not only for me but also for those who depended on me. Others realized how blessed they were to have me in their lives. It was crucial for me to be a better version of myself by doing the right thing every day.

I took a stand to make things better for me. I began to see that things were not as bad as they were when I was not caring for myself. I was not the mister negativity that everyone else was seeing and the one that people were talking about. My irritability was playing tricks with me. Even though I did not want to admit it, doing what was right helped me realize something important. I saw that it was better to face things that made me prone to irritability. I needed to be willing to adapt to changes that would come my way. By being willing to bend, I do what was right for me once and for all.

I had to let go of my old beliefs. I used to think that not taking care of my mental health was acceptable. I realized that by avoiding it, I was hurting myself. I was slowly breaking myself apart. I wanted to believe that I was doing what was right, but I wasn’t. Others saw it too. I changed for the better because I knew others were affected when I was unwell. I had uncomfortable conversations about my actions. I tried to cover them up as if I was doing what was right.

The reality was that I couldn’t tell when I was becoming unwell. It only became apparent when it was too late to repair the damage without anyone noticing. I finally faced the truth. The only way to stop fighting my battle was to realize I was the one creating it. This was due to not taking care of my mental health in the way I needed to.

Yes, starting to do the right thing was hard. But I knew I had to do it for the right reasons. As hard as it was to get back on track, I did what I had to do. I knew it was best for me and everyone else around me. I realized I would no longer be a prisoner of my past by using what happened as a learning experience. I learned to move on into a life that I wanted all along.