It’s 3:17 in the morning and I’ve been thinking about writing this post all night. If I’m being completely honest — this topic is one I’ve wanted to write about for the two years I’ve been writing What Nicole Wore but always shrank away from. What does mental health have to do with fashion? Not a whole lot friends, not a whole lot.
Lately though opening up about my personal struggle with anxiety and depression has weighed heavier on my heart than usual. I hope that someone reading this will be able to relate and take solace in knowing they’re not alone; I also feel like I’ve reached a point where I can’t continue to ignore the elephant in the room. So let’s start at the beginning shall we?
I’ve always hated change. I’ve always cared far too much about what other people think. I’ve always gotten too worked up about things. Up until four years ago, I didn’t think much of it. It was just part of my personality and who I was. When I was first diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, I felt crushed. To me it felt like a big red label slapped across my forehead that said, ‘this girl is psycho.’ I remember my mom holding my hand in the car after we left the therapist’s office and listening to me sob before she said, “Nicole this is just the first step. This means things can be better.”
