I Am Here.

This year has been brutal.

The details matter but aren't best shared here. I'll just say I've experienced bullying, isolation, loneliness, and purposelessness for such a prolonged time and by/from people I deeply cared about that my anxiety and depression have been regular companions for the past seven months.

I think humans have two fundamental needs that keep us going and fulfilled in our lives: we need to feel loved, and we need to feel like our existence on this earth matters. And I think the fear of not having those things - fear that I am unlovable, fear that my existence doesn't matter - is what can lead you to some bad places.

I'm beyond lucky/blessed/fortunate - any word of gratitude fits: throughout the past months, I've never once felt unloved. My family and friends have gone above and beyond to support me in basically every way imaginable. They've listened, offered very sound advice, reassured me that I'm not crazy, fed me cookies, left me alone when I wanted and also forced me not to be alone when I really needed to not be. I know many people do not have the support that I have and I wish I could find a better way to express my gratitude.

But I have often - very often - felt like I don't matter.

I know that it perhaps seems counterintuitive to feel very loved but also feel like I don't matter, but it's been hard sometimes to connect the reasons why people love me when I feel like I have nothing to offer.

When I'm really at my best and firing on all cylinders, I really like myself. I'm funny and quick and creative and say yes to every event and I feel fun. I listen well and offer good advice and cook and bake and clean and still have time to know what's happening in the news and have an opinion on it while binge watching whatever new thing everyone else is.

I haven't been at my best lately. Most days I'm flying at half mast and some days I can't even get off the ground.

I had a friend once tell me that on the days where she just lies in bed she thinks, "I could have not lived this day and nothing would be any different."

She said that more than 10 years ago and I've thought about it almost daily since. It used to be quite a positive motivator for me to not waste time, but lately it haunts me as confirmation that my existence doesn't matter.

I was talking to a therapist a few months ago and I was telling her how I don't feel fun anymore, and the idea of not being a fun person gives me unlimited anxiety. And, because she's a therapist, she helped me unpack that why.

I rely so much on being funny or smart or talkative or passionate or engaging or fun for my value. I fear that if I am not those things, then I am erasable. My existence doesn't matter. And so because dealing with the situations that have been making me depressed and anxious takes up basically all of my emotional and physical energy, I don't have much left in my reserve for being fun. And I can say that sometimes, that makes me feel worst of all.

It's obviously a massive lie that people only matter if they behave a certain way or offer a particular thing. A person matters because they are alive. This is a courtesy I extend to others on a very regular basis, but had never thought to extend to myself.

So lately, especially on the really hard days, when I start to wonder if I matter, I give myself a minute. I take a few deep breaths. I think about how I am fearfully and wonderfully made, and how I do not have to make someone laugh or create something or even leave the house to have value.

I matter because I am here.