How much of who I am is down to my mental illness?

How much of who I am is down to my mental illness?

I’ve put up with depressive periods for a decade now.

That means that depression and I have a relationship outlasting any romance I’ve experienced thus far.

How to find the right therapist for you and your needs

Panic attacks are up there, too. They started when I was 16, I’m now 24, so we’re nearing our pottery anniversary (please send me a hand-made vase that I will obsessively worry about breaking, thanks).

Obsessive thoughts have popped up a few times over the years, but I only really became conscious of them as a thing separate from depression – and they only started coming in nearly every day – over the last two years. So we’re still in our honeymoon period.




If I were in a relationship with someone for two years, eight years, or ten years, it’d be fair to say that relationship would have shaped who I am now – especially if those relationships happened during the formative teens and the ‘WHO AM I?’ early twenties.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

So when it comes to mental health issues, I find myself asking some questions.

How much of who I am is down to mental illness?

Who would I be without depression?

Who would I be if I’d never had depression?

These are scary thoughts that, unlike most of my scary thoughts (you know the drill: murder, burning down the house by using the iron, accidentally hurting someone and forgetting all about it) do seem to have some basis.

Mental illness affects your thoughts, feelings, and your actions.

Who you are, I reckon, is in big part down to your thoughts, feelings, and your actions.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

I think a lot of my hesitation in getting help with my mental illness – particularly in terms of taking medication – was losing who I was.

If pills were going to take away my negative thoughts, surely they’d be taking away a part of who I am.

What would be left? Would I still be the same person?

A few months into taking pills, I’ve realised that no, I’m not the same person as my depressed self.

But that doesn’t mean I’m not myself… if that makes sense.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

I am more than just my bad thoughts, panic attacks, and obsessive thoughts.

Being on antidepressants doesn’t change my thoughts and feelings – it just makes them a little easier to deal with.

I can still make dark jokes, just without the voice in my head telling me I’m not funny. I can come up with creative ideas, but now the self-doubt isn’t as overwhelming.

So I’m still me – just a version of me lifted out of the pit of my own mental state. Which is nice.

I had a lot of concerns about antidepressants ‘deadening’ my emotions and making me dull, monotone, and incapable of feeling anything (blame reading novels with characters taking lithium).

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

They haven’t done that. I have emotions. I still have bad thoughts. They just don’t feel as overwhelming.



I’ve realised that while mental illness is a part of who I am, it’s not the only part.

I am not my depression, my anxiety, or my obsessive thoughts. I am a person who deals with these things, whose life has been shaped by these things – but I am a person beyond a chemical imbalance in my brain and a struggle to sleep without checking switches.

I will not lose myself to mental illness. I will not lose myself to antidepressants.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

Sure, I’m going to keep asking myself questions about what defines me as a person.

I’ve got a new set of worries now, wondering if it’ll be antidepressants that are responsible for who I am.

The idea of being on pills that change who I am longterm is bloody terrifying. Willingly taking something that changes my thoughts and my actions still makes me paranoid, and the idea that I may have to choose between this or going back to my depressed self isn’t great.

I may never know who I’d be without mental illness or without medication.

But that’s okay.

I don’t want to be the version of myself struggling with mental illness in silence.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

I don’t want to be the me that avoids going home because I know I’ll end up alone with bad thoughts, the me that pushes away friends, the me who can’t pay attention to what people are saying because my brain is chanting that I’m sh*t, that everyone hates me, that I’ve left the oven turned on and my house is currently in flames.


For a decade, mental illness has been a toxic friend, telling me I need it, that it’s there for me, that it makes me who I am.

It doesn’t make me.

It’s taken from me. It’s shrunk me down. It’s snatched away my drive, my joy in little things, my ability to talk to people without holding things back.

(Picture: Ella Byworth for Metro.co.uk)

Getting better is giving me those things back. It’s letting me find myself – a version of myself that isn’t filtered through the bad stuff, but lifted up, freer, clearer.

Getting better means changing. It means saying goodbye to the person I thought I was supposed to be, and welcoming in a new version – happier, freer, better.

If antidepressants are part of giving me back myself, I’ll welcome them too.

I’m tired of being my depression, my anxiety, and my obsessive thoughts. I’m tired of giving them the power to define me.

So I’m letting go of that person. I’m working on getting better – and getting to know myself in the process.

Oi, listen to our new mental health podcast: Oh, hey. If you like reading about mental health stuff, you’ll probably also like listening to it. So rejoice. We’ve launched a snazzy new podcast discussing all things mental health without getting too serious, science-y, or stuffy. It’s called Mentally Yours, it’s great, and you can subscribe here. Let us know what you think by commenting, tweeting us @MentallyYrs, or leaving a review. We are very keen for any and all feedback.* *Especially if it’s nice.

MORE: When it comes to mental illness, I’m still terrified of being labelled

MORE: Why aren’t antidepressants fixing everything?

MORE: Don’t feel bad for needing to take mental health days

Advertisement Advertisement