For what seems to be my entire life, I feel that I always manage my stress, anxiety, and struggles on my own – which I don’t think now looking back was the best thing to do. If I can be honest, I have always been insanely independent, and don’t like asking for help. I was always “that person” who brushed off the idea of a therapist, or speaking out my problems with someone who may be able to make me feel better.
So like many teenage girls, I argue with my parents, but a lot more with my dad and about way more sensitive topics. My dad is a great father , he provides me with food, clothes, and a place to live along with other non essentials. All of that stuff is great, but what I’m looking for from him is something he could never buy me: love.
The answer is yes. Despite being a social butterfly, I find that my mental health is usually the reason most of my relationships either cease to exist, or are hanging on by a thread.