I first met my black cloud when I was 14 years old. Now, I do not consider myself an artist by any means, but this is my personal depiction of what it looks like. Sometimes on the outside, you would have seen a straight-A student, someone with a very active social life, and a promising athletic career ahead of her. On the inside, though, there was a girl who was battling overwhelming depression, having constant suicidal ideation, and ultimately looking for anything that would numb the pain.
Beyond all the suffering that comes with mental illness, there was the infamous stigma that left me feeling ashamed, weak, and isolated. In my bottle, I was so scared to tell anyone what was going on inside my mind because I knew I was privileged. I had family and friends that loved me, a roof over my head, food on the table, a good education, athletic opportunities – checking all the boxes.
I kept telling myself that I wasn’t allowed to feel like this and each day was just another bad day that I needed to get over. But it was so much more than that. I was consistently forcing myself to be the person that everybody thought I was, then I would come home and break down by myself. And it wasn’t until several years later I realized hiding my depression was only making things worse. That probably seems obvious, right? But as I continue talking about how I learned to live with my mental illness, I want you to remember exactly what we’re talking about: mental illness, or more specifically, depression, something that completely clouds your thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. When you’re going through something like this, the things that seem obvious are actually not so easy to do. And when you add in suicidal thoughts, self-harm, substance use, or other concurrent disorders, it only gets harder.
But receiving the diagnosis brought on a whirlwind of emotions. At first, it made sense. Yeah, these thoughts I’m having are definitely not normal, depression sounds about right. Then I felt shame. What do I have to be depressed about? Stop being so dramatic, Angelica. Then came the fear, sadness, and embarrassment, but also the validation, comfort, and insight that I was so desperately lacking. You know, I heard about this mental illness thing just a mere few times growing up. Maybe these people were onto something when they said it actually does exist. It is a real illness and it can happen to anybody. Who would have thought?
So essentially, I had very limited knowledge, a great deal of inherited stigma, and a lot of confusion about what this all meant for me. I did know that I was someone living with a mental illness. I did know that the topic of mental health was still very taboo. And I did know that I was really struggling and needed to do something about it if I wanted to see myself living past high school. I had to find a way to use what I knew to my advantage. This black cloud was taking over my entire existence, and whatever I was doing was just not working. A different approach became essential for survival, literally.
So I took matters into my own hands. I developed an amateur (emphasis on the amateur) three-step plan for myself solely based on my own experiences with clinical depression. The first step is simple acknowledgment. After masking my illness for many years, it was a big leap for me to acknowledge that I was someone who was suffering from a mental illness, someone who needed medication to remain stable, and someone who had to work extra hard at staying alive.
Sometimes I had to learn to put a name to what I was going through. These weren’t just bad days or hormonal teenage years. It was severe depression combined with anxiety, self-harm, and suicidal ideation. Acknowledging these things gave me the space to understand my illness on a deeper level, treat it with the gravity it needed, and actually allow other people to recognize the vulnerable state that I was in.
The second step is acceptance. I am diagnosed with clinical depression, and that means that some days are just going to be really hard. I’ve accepted that these are the circumstances that are sometimes unavoidable, debilitating, and frequent in my day-to-day life. Accepting the black cloud days has given me the freedom from having to hide it, the permission to feel the things that I need to feel, and the ability to intentionally choose coping mechanisms that best serve my current mental state.
Which brings me to the third and final step: allowance. I pride myself on being very aware of when my black cloud is present, with how overpowering it is. It’s actually not a hard thing to recognize, but after simply acknowledging and accepting that it’s there, I need to allow it to be there. While this may sound like I’m giving away my power, it actually produces the opposite effect. For me, at least. I shared how putting on a brave face and masking my illness only made my symptoms worsen. But things drastically changed for me when I was able to say, both to myself and to others, “You know what? My black cloud is here today. I’m not feeling the best. I might need some time to sit with this.”
I was no longer forcing myself to appear okay. I was allowing myself to not be okay when appropriate, of course. And although I’m describing this as something like a magic antidote, it absolutely does not take the severity of what that black cloud entails away. What it does do, however, is it allows you to find peace in the madness and strengthen the battle. “I know what this is. It sucks. It’s hard. It’s scary. But you have gotten through this before, and you will get through this again.”
This mindful, gentle, and submissive mentality genuinely changed my relationship with my diagnosis. By making the decision to grow with my illness instead of against it, I have gotten so much better at managing my symptoms and ultimately have learned an incredible amount about myself. I know some people might completely disagree with this mentality. I see the potential harm that can come from befriending your illness, for lack of a better term. But while I do not consider myself an expert on the topic of depression, I am an expert in my personal story. I know what it’s like to live with this invisible illness, and maybe some of you listening to this today do as well.
The thing with mental illness is that it affects everyone differently. There isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to matters as complex as these. But when I hear people sharing both what works and what doesn’t work for them, it allows me to shape-shift and contort all of these ideas in a way that makes sense to me. And I truly believe that I have developed a really unique and powerful approach to living with clinical depression. This was my way of owning my mental illness and making the best out of this unfortunate situation.
But it isn’t always that easy. I’m definitely not saying that I’m cured or that anytime my black cloud comes over me
, I know exactly what to do. I wish it were as simple as that. In fact, my last oppressive episode occurred in December as I was preparing this speech. It was the worst one I had in a long time. I had no motivation for anything, and I was heavily struggling with self-harm and suicidal ideation. I told my therapist that I felt like a fraud for raving about this idea of learning to live with clinical depression when I’m still going through these dark times myself.
Remember when I said that I absolutely do not have everything figured out? But that’s exactly what clinical depression is. You can’t always control when it will show up, and you don’t know how paralyzing it will be when that black cloud takes over. You lose sight of everything. That’s why these three simple steps – acknowledgment, acceptance, and allowance – have become the easiest, most effective way for me to deal with my depression.
There’s one last thing that I want to leave you all with today that is practical for anybody to incorporate into their daily lives, regardless of whether or not you battle a mental illness. Every single person in this room has mental health, and I think that’s something that unfortunately often goes unacknowledged in our world.
In the midst of one of the worst depressive episodes that I had ever been through, I added one key thing to my morning routine, and that was asking myself the simple question: What do I need today? I’m someone who absolutely lives by my agenda and cannot function without making a to-do list. But what’s on those to-do lists, though? Or things that we can’t avoid – things like work, school, bills, and responsibilities.
When we write those things down, we’re forgetting about one of the most crucial aspects of our entire existence: the fact that we are humans first. When was the last time you added something for you on your to-do list? When asking myself this question, I developed a very simple check-in practice with myself that really allowed me to prioritize my own well-being on a deeper level.
To make this easier, you can break it down into three main categories, or if this doesn’t feel true to you, I encourage you to create a version of this practice that makes the most sense to you. Every day, I start with this question: What do I need today? I do a body scan and ask myself questions. Is my black cloud here? Where are my energy levels at? What do I need today?
Then, I go to my three pillars: Where is my mind at? Am I feeling overwhelmed? Do I need some stimulation outside of my regular work? Based on my answers and my own self-reflection, I’ll decide whether I want to make time to read a book at the end of the night, maybe spend a couple of hours watching TV to give my brain a break, or even just simply practice some positive affirmations.
Next, where is my body at? Am I tired? Am I craving some movement? Again, based on my answers, I’ll decide whether I need to make time for a nap, add in a workout, or maybe just even prioritize hydration and nutrition throughout the day.
Lastly, this one’s my favorite: Where’s my soul at? Am I feeling connected? Do I need to set aside some time for my spiritual health? Maybe this looks like calling a friend, going for a nature walk and leaving my phone at home, or burning some incense and practicing yoga.
The final part of this is taking action. I think about where I may have some gaps in my day to incorporate these things. For example, it could be taking a walk on my lunch hour, cooking a healthy dinner after work and reading before bed. Or it could simply be lighting a candle, taking a nap after work, and watching TV before bed. It’s all about meeting yourself where you’re at each day.
Now, it is important to recognize that there are only 24 hours in a day, and sometimes we just don’t have the time or energy to do any of these things, especially when it’s a black cloud kind of day. But the most important aspect of this entire practice and more broadly our entire lives is doing it with intention. Intentionality has become the biggest factor throughout my healing journey, and it all starts with what you tell yourself.
Being intentional about your thoughts, actions, and goals can have much more of an impact than you think. It may sound silly to say something like, “I’m cleaning my room to feel more organized and create a healthy space,” or “I am going for a walk to move my body and enjoy nature,” but that mentality actually allows you to see and feel those benefits much more than if you were to say, “I have to clean my room because people are coming over,” or “I need to take my dog outside.”
Having intentions, big or small, has largely improved the way that I live and lead my life. What I’ve shared today may not work or apply to everyone, but I can truly say that these things, although quite minuscule in nature, have changed my life for the better.
It’s actually quite fitting that the theme of this event is the butterfly effect, which states that small changes can produce large-scale impact. When I changed my approach from masking my mental illness to owning it, when I became intentional about making time for myself, and when I just started taking time for my mental health, not my mental illness, I witnessed the butterfly effect in full force.
My mind became healthier, my relationships got stronger, I had a greater sense of self, the list goes on and on. As someone who used to only see darkness and thought that taking my own life was the only way out, I am so proud to be standing here today, highlighting that it is possible to own your mental illness instead of it owning you.