" She's just looking for attention. "

" Everyone gets sad. "

" She's just being a teenager. "

" She'll be fine. "

" It's just a phase. "

You probably heard these words before. From a doctor, psychologist or even from family members. Me too. For years my symptoms were brushed off, pushed under the rug, so that I didn't make others uncomfortable, or simply from lack of knowledge on mental health.

When I was 27, someone finally listened. Someone looked at me, heard me, and saw it all for what it was. Mental illness. More then one in fact. Frankly, I'm not sure how I survived. You see, one of the major illnesses I was diagnosed with is Borderline Personality Disorder. The average lifespan is about 27 years, due to the internal struggle, the turmoil, the absolute desperation and despair that plagues people like me - maybe even you - every single day. I will go further into this in later posts, and go further into more of my diagnoses, but this particular one is one people are afraid of.

It's misunderstood.

It's impossible to treat, as you have to treat the symptoms not the illness.

It's scary. Not only for those that have it, but for the ones that love them.

It's a storm that feels as though it will never end.

I will be honest, when I received this news I wasn't shocked. I knew from a young age that something was different with me, that I wasn't like the others. That things were a bit more difficult, that I felt a bit more deeply.

But mostly I felt validated in that moment. I felt relief. I felt a tiny bit of hope, because finally - FINALLY - it had a name. There was a reason. There was proof.

I was a crow amongst swans.

And guess what? Today, everyday, always, I live as that crow.

I. Live.

And I'm damned proud.