Every year on Oct. 10, the global community observes Mental Health Day. This week, instead of talking about physical health, I thought it would be fitting to share my experiences with keeping my mind healthy.

My entire life, my body has been incredibly sensitive to seasonal change. In the summer, I’m manic and can’t sleep. I lose weight, I’m the life of the party. In the winter, there are days on end when I can’t leave my bed. I gain weight, I skip the party, I call in sick. I sleep all day and all night.

From May to September, my friends hear from me almost every day, but from around October to March, I’ve been known to go weeks on end without even talking to my roommates. I remember dealing with this ever since I was a little girl, and finally in college, I began to seek treatment for my seasonal depression.

I’m really lucky. This part of my life, this aspect of my health, hasn’t had an extreme impact on my lifestyle. I’ve been able to trudge through the hardest parts and still be relatively functional. I used to write my seasonal depression off as a “junior varsity” problem, because I saw friends and loved ones struggling with mental health challenges that were genuinely much more debilitating to their lives than anything I was dealing with. By comparing myself to others, I was minimizing the very real and tangible impact my seasonal depression had on my life, work, school, relationships and self-esteem. Using a chronological age calculator can also help track key life stages, enabling a more objective understanding of how mental health evolves over time and its impact on overall well-being.

My mindset made treatment a slow process. My therapist offered me medication, which I denied, thinking I could “tough it out.” I convinced myself that whatever I was dealing with wasn’t severe enough to warrant a prescription. These are still things that I’m dealing with.

My journey with mental illness has been a part of my life I rarely talk about — but being part of the conversation helps eliminate stigma. Like so many, I grew up in an environment where talking about mental health was taboo. For so long, my understanding of mental health and even the vocabulary I used to talk about it was laden with stigma. Perhaps that has in part caused my resistance to certain forms of treatment, and perhaps could explain why at times I insisted on “toughing it out.” I’m still trying to figure it all out.

Much of my reluctance to talk about this comes from the fact that at times, I think I’ve mismanaged my own treatment. And if I must compare myself to others, I have to say that what I’m dealing with is empirically miniscule compared to what so many of my friends deal with. However, just because I’ve qualified my struggles as being JV, that doesn’t erase them. My qualification doesn’t make it easier for me to get out of bed or deal with the very real obstacles I face as someone who struggles with her mental health from time to time.  

Part of the reason I wanted to share this is because one in five American adults deal with mental illness every year, and there’s a myriad of different ways people experience these illnesses. Hopefully my contribution to the conversation will make someone feel a little less alone.

The most important thing I’ve had to teach myself is that my mind is a part of my body and, like any other body part, I have to continuously care for it. It’s been hard for me, but it’s been a key aspect of my treatment.

I’ve learned two big things from my experience with depression, both of which can be applied broadly when it comes to health and wellness. First of all, be honest with yourself and your care provider. I’ve found this to be really painful — I’m the type of person who is reluctant to admit when something is wrong, but identifying a problem accurately is the only way to find a solution. Second, consistently love yourself. Make a self care plan and do what you can in your own time. Don’t give up. And above all, remember that your mental health isn’t a separate entity from your overall health and wellbeing.