Very rarely will I fall off the wagon so hard due to depression or anxiety like in the past; quite frankly, I do not miss that happening one bit. I also know that low points and relapses are a continuous part of life and healing. Despite that, when you spend more time feeling happy rather than miserable, you forget just how exhausting it is to be upset or worried all of the time.
I would be lying to you all if I told you that I have been walking around with my head held high and looking fierce and flawless (as I enjoy once in a blue moon). You want to know what my last week or two has really been like?
Hey there, everyone. Even though this page primarily focuses on fashion and beauty, I also want to start some conversations about mental health awareness and make this place a safe zone for anyone else who struggles like myself.
My grandmother has a favorite picture of me from when I was a little girl, and it sits right on a shelf with some of her other knick-knacks. In that photo, I’m a five- or six-year-old little girl wearing a white hat, big sunglasses, and a dress and applying a clear little lipstick from an old mini kit. (Even at such a young age, lipstick was my favorite thing.) I have such an intent look on my face, making sure it’s on just right. I loved all of my little lippies as well as all of my nail polishes.
Fast forward to 2005. I’m 12 years old and starting my first year of middle school; that little girl has disappeared. Now, I wear nothing but baggy jeans, band t-shirts, cargo shorts, skater shoes, and backward-turned baseball caps. I messed with some eye shadow and whatnot in fifth grade, but that was two years ago. I don’t own a single bit of makeup, nor do I own a single dress or skirt anymore. I don’t care about my appearance; hell, I’ve stopped caring about much of anything, at this point.