“There are certain parts of video games, especially RPGs, where the player must level up before a boss fight or go around collecting potions and items and training. Like when you train your Pokémon before you fight the Elite Four. That’s what we’re doing. That’s what being 24 is about, I think.” - Eric Ellis, my partner who keeps me sane.

May is Mental Health Month. It’s hella difficult to talk about mental health. But the more people do, the more we can reduce the stigma, be more empathetic toward one another and take care of each other. Those are some of my goals with my photojournalism and with my time on Earth. I thought it was time to talk about my own story a little bit.

On Monday, I’m seeing a doctor again to try to get my anxiety under control. It’s been two years since I stopped taking medication for it and subbed in yoga. I thought I was doing a pretty good job of managing with a healthy lifestyle. But it’s time to ask for help.

It’s not because my 23 years of life have been especially tough—I have a stable, wonderful life with a great support system. It’s just brain chemicals and the lack thereof. It’s The Thing that starts as a cold feeling in my stomach and crawls into my throat. It convinces me to sleep instead of work on my photos after a restaurant shift. It tells me I should have health insurance by now or be paying back loans. I shouldn’t eat that. I’ll never make it in photojournalism. Don’t seek out time with friends. Sleep instead.

And I’m not nearly alone. It’s the most common health problem in my county. According to the ADAA, anxiety disorders affect 18% of U.S. population. They are highly treatable, but only about one-third of those suffering receive treatment. We’re afraid of the ramifications of diagnosis because it seems different from a disorder that affects other parts of our body. It feels like we should be able to just stop the feelings (or lack of emotions). There is a shame that accompanies mental health care, but there shouldn’t be.

Part of my recent struggle with The Thing has been adjusting to life after university. I crave a life of steady, daily photography, but I’m not there yet. 

In the months between internships, I’m working more than full time at a busy (delicious) restaurant and freelancing on the side. I’m not making pictures enough to quiet The Thing telling me that I’m losing my reporting muscles. The last time I worked for a daily paper was early January. It hasn’t been that long, but still I miss the teamwork and support. 

Journalists my age may not ever have steady careers working for just one client. And that’s okay. It’s actually exciting. But when the anxious part of me takes over, it’s hard to get my work done. 

Going abroad and working on my own project was a liberating privilege. I should have been ecstatic and filled with gratitude. And I was, but paralyzed by fear and the pressure I put on myself as well. I am proud of the work I did, but I know I missed out on making pictures because of anxiety. “You could have done more.” And since I’ve been home, the whispering has ensured my work on the editing has been lethargic as well. “If you just don’t finish the project, the failure will be more bearable.”

Some weeks recently, Liminal has been the only project I work on, and It’s mostly because I don’t want to let Eric down. This personal project has been immeasurably good therapy. It keeps me accountable and keeps me making pictures, even when I don’t want to. 

Creative jobs are just that: jobs. We need to go to work daily, regardless of if we have other jobs as well. Even when we’re exhausted. Even when we’re afraid of failure. 

“Fear doesn’t go away. The warrior and the artist live by the same code of necessity, which dictates that the battle must be fought anew every day.” 
― Steven Pressfield, The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks & Win Your Inner Creative Battles

I won’t let my anxiety to stand in the way of the work I want to do. It’s not weak to ask for help or to admit all of this to whoever reads it. If anyone out there ever needs an ear or a hand, I’m here. Talking about mental health is important, and we’re just now coming into a culture in this country where it’s okay to admit to struggling with it. We’re fortunate—that isn’t the case in many parts of the world. 

Rock on, friends. Remember to be kind to one another and keep doing work that sets your heart on fire. Don’t be ashamed of working outside of the industry to make ends meet. Admire your peers work, but keep blinders handy to concentrate on your own path. And ask for help when you need it.