Everyone has a secret.

We all have something that we’re trying to hide from the world in an effort to mask our weaknesses from those who would judge us harshly for them. It’s a real risk to ‘come out’ about anything. The truth is, there are always going to be people out there who would love to take that secret and expose it for the world to see. In twisting and misinterpreting things they can fabricate a whole narrative about your life. That’s the problem with staying silent-it allows for people to accomplish this more easily for all the holes left empty by your silence.

So, you can keep quiet and allow the world to look at the picture from afar and create a narrative that they think fits, or you can come out and tell people your truth.

My dirty secret is that I’ve just emerged from one of the deepest, darkest, and longest depressions of my entire life. I was so far down emotionally and mentally that the concept of “up” escaped me completely. I, quite literally, couldn’t bring myself to leave the bed. Needless to say, I didn’t get out of the house very much.

For three years, I stayed as still and silent as possible in the attic that my partner and I had to live in temporarily. It was a desperate and (ultimately) futile attempt not to inspire negativity or judgement. I was called an ‘invalid’ to my face multiple times. I felt like a less than a ghost, silently visiting the bathroom and kitchen only as was absolutely necessary. I primarily lived off of water and bulk fruits or nuts. It was bad.

By the end of those three years of emotional isolation I found myself an anxious, depressed mess with absolutely no self-esteem, serious issues with developing emotional intimacy, absolutely convinced of my worthlessness as a person, and living with a deep sense that I was both unwanted and unlovable.

It is only within the past five months that I’ve had the opportunity to relocate to a far healthier living situation. That fear of judgment, the overwhelming sense of worthlessness, and that truly terrible label- “invalid” haven’t followed me. I no longer feel invalid as a person, despite what I spent ages internalizing. I needed to own up to my part in the situation and come to a place of acceptance. At 31, It’s only been as of very recent that I actually feel like I have something to bring to the table of friendship. I feel less emotionally stunted by my recent lack of human interaction, and now fully realize that not holding down a 9–5 job in the “gig economy” is FAR from some mark of failure- in fact it’s an extremely common tale. “…analysis of census data shows that 36 percent of older millennials without jobs live with their parents…” Clearly, the narrative of what defines “success” that I’d been fed for so long was no longer applicable or realistic.

The truth is, I don’t come from a family with money. My Mum was a musician and lay-midwife who now cares for children, and my father was part-musician part-social worker. I’m proud of them both for making a difference in a lot of people’s lives.

Staying in school to earn an advanced degree wasn’t an option for me- no one was footing the enormous bill, and that which I did have to borrow I will likely spend the rest of my life paying back. I’m actually pretty okay with that. Working one’s way through college is no longer a realistic option. In fact, I worked my ass off throughout all of my schooling and I’m damn proud of everything I accomplished.

I am not well-connected- well, not with the “right people,” but I’m certainly well-connected in a network of amazing people who bring me such happiness.

My greatest sin seems to be that I’m not terribly interested in wasting my life behind the screen of a computer for any reason. (Scandalous! I know.)

None of this bothers me, personally- my idea of success involves making enough money to eat well and pay the bills, having a core group of close friends and chosen family, and being able to enjoy a dinner party or vacation every so often. That happiness has always been my marker for “success” but in this world that is simply not “enough.”

Without the benefit of money, a doctorate, or the “right connections,” the likelihood of achieving wild success (as others define it) at this point in my life are slim. (Hell, I know several people who enjoy all of these benefits and are still living in their parents’ basement.) Achieving my dreams, however, is a goal well within reach- and that is not lost on me. It was my dash toward the ‘American dream’ in a bright, shiny corporate setting that helped put me into that prison of a bed. It was finding a way to make money on my own terms that helped me finally get out from under the covers.

There is very little in this world that is as difficult or as the awful feeling of a twisted narrative being applied to a deeply painful truth.

It’s time to collectively come to terms with reality. This is not the same world our parents, aunts, uncles, or older siblings grew up in. It’s only through honesty that we can make it more difficult for others to crudely fill in the gaps of our stories without any concrete knowledge. It’s deeply uncomfortable (even painful) to live openly and in truth, but it’s the only way to overcome the things we don’t discuss but should.