When You Feel Like the 'Poster Girl' for Depression

I have had my fair share of growing up with my brain in high gear, my heart on overload and life in overdrive. All beginning with middle school, it seemed like I felt 10 times harder than anyone else around me. In middle school, the girls I envied never seemed to experience a day of what it felt like to have oily, pimply skin or frizzy hair that never seemed to settle down. A day they go to school wearing the wrong brand of jeans or a pair of oversized nerdy glasses.

In high school, it never seemed like the girls I envied knew what it was like to have never been on a date, kissed or told that you’re beautiful. How painful it was to go uninvited to a dance, or commonly spend Friday nights alone and in bed.

In college, it never seemed like the girls I envied struggled with seeking friend groups that just instantly clicked into place. It never seemed like girls struggled with finding a date to a date party. It never seemed like girls struggled with a relationship with God. It never seemed like they struggled with a mental illness.

Oh, but I was that girl. The girl who struggled, suffered and cried through so many of those years. I am still that girl with oily skin and oversized glasses who sits at home on Friday nights. I am the girl who struggles to find friends, struggles to love God and who fully struggles with so many aspects of mental illness. I was that girl. I am that girl.

I have come to the realization that I despise looking in the mirror. The girl who stared back at me was a stranger. I have realized that sometimes my skin is the toughest thing to wear. That I can’t help but cry because of who I am. When I look in the mirror, I see a semi-skinny girl with a little weight to her body. I see short, frizzy, untamable, light brown hair. I see a girl with pimples, blue/grey eyes and a round, chubby face. I see a girl who not only has physical scars but also scars in her eyes and heart. I see a girl who is so tragically broken. Sadness has consumed her. The girl staring back at me — the light inside of her eyes has died. The light inside her heart has been dimmed.

I saw that girl most of my life; however, at 21, I look into the mirror and the girl who stares back is no longer a stranger, but a version of Jane Claire. A glimpse of who I could be, who I will be and who I am. So yes, I was that girl who struggled with looks, friends, relationships and mental health. Heck, I am still that girl. But I am a girl who embodies those characteristics, flaws and identities and transforms them into a poster girl for depression. But depression can look like a lot more than a girl with a scarred heart and dimly lit eyes. Depression can look like a girl who lovingly looks into the mirror at who she is and finds a way to share that struggle with grace and dignity. I will be that girl; I am that girl. My middle school, high school and college self. All of me. I no longer look at other girls and envy; I will look at myself and love.