Mental Garden

Chapter Nine: Bottom Watering

Part One:

After my attempt to reach out to my dad for help with my anxiety, I found myself sinking deeper into the abyss of my struggles. The disappointment and hurt lingered. My anxiety intensified, and the fear of vulnerability grew stronger. I found myself retreating further into myself, building walls around my emotions, afraid of exposing my struggles to anyone, including my dad.

The void created by his dismissal seemed to swallow me whole, leaving me feeling alone and unseen. The pain of his reaction weighed heavily on my heart, a constant reminder that the support I had craved from him was elusive, that he couldn't—or perhaps wouldn't—fully understand my battles with anxiety. The silence between us felt deafening, and I began to wonder if I was asking too much, if my feelings were an inconvenience to him, or if my struggles were simply not important enough to warrant his attention.

In time, I learned that my worth was not dependent on others' reactions or acceptance of my struggles. I began to see that my anxiety did not define me, but rather, it was a part of the complex tapestry of my life—a tapestry that encompassed strength, resilience, vulnerability, and growth.

As time went on, the frequency of my depressive episodes began to increase. Weeks would pass where I found myself lost in a labyrinth of darkness, unable to find the light that had once guided me. During these episodes, self-care became a distant memory, and even the simplest tasks seemed scary.

My parents witnessed these episodes, but it felt as though I was once again alone in my struggle. The silence surrounding mental health remained unbroken, and I was left to navigate the depths of my emotions without a guiding hand. Each time the darkness enveloped me, it became easier to treat these episodes as normal occurrences, as if they were an inevitable part of life.

I questioned whether my experiences were valid or merely the result of my own shortcomings. The weight of shame settled on my shoulders like an unyielding burden. Days turned into weeks, and I existed in a fog of numbness, my emotions buried deep within me. The outside world became a distant blur, and the energy to engage with life slipped through my fingers like grains of sand.

Though my parents were physically present, their understanding remained veiled behind the curtain of silence that shrouded our family. It felt as though mental health was an uncharted territory, one they were unable—or unwilling—to traverse. In my darkest moments, I grappled with the feeling of being a burden to those around me, an inconvenience that others had to endure. This belief only served to exacerbate the cycle of depression, as I withdrew further into myself, closing the door to potential support.

...

Amidst the shadows of my struggles, I discovered a beacon of light and solace in an unexpected place—video games. As I delved into virtual worlds, I found not just entertainment but a lifeline of connection that would transform my life.

In the vast landscapes of online gaming, I encountered a diverse community of players who welcomed me with open arms. Among them, I forged bonds that defied distance and time, friendships that would stand the test of trials and tribulations.

Through the screen, I met kindred spirits who understood my struggles without needing an explanation. In the realms of pixels and code, the burden of my mental health felt lighter, as though I had found a sanctuary where judgment and stigma were left at the door.

In these virtual realms, I didn't have to wear a mask or pretend that everything was alright. My friends saw beyond the facade, recognizing the authenticity of my emotions and experiences. They listened with genuine empathy, offering comfort and support in times of need.