 Ever since I started talking openly about my mental health, I've been showered countless times with the common man. You're such an inspiration. I always took this to heart and felt warm inside. Yeah, it dawned on me that I might only be an inspiration because of my mental illness. Like all experiences in life, it is what you do with it that defines who you are. I use my mental illness to help others, however it dawned on me that I'm only your inspiration when you're faced with a pretty picture of recovery. I'm not your inspiration when I'm sobbing into the floor. I'm not an inspiration when I sit with a razor in my hands instead at my previous scars having an internal argument about whether or not I should do this. I'm not your inspiration when I'm living with this. The picture I paint to you when I embed it is what you think is inspirational. Neither my struggle or my smile is inspirational. My ability to get up in the morning isn't inspirational. My scars definitely are not inspirational. At the drop of a hat, I would give up all of this in order to have never had to experience this. It's not inspirational that I talk about my struggle. It's not brave and it's none of the things you want to label me as. It is a search for other people who know this internal pain, fear and feeling of being completely lost. It is an attempt at helping to create a society that doesn't flinch when someone sobs the words to a society. It is an attempt to help educate people, but none of that makes me inspirational. Inspirational people are the people that you aspire to be, traits that you aspire to have. Yet none of this mental battle is inspirational. It's sad, it's frustrating, and it's lonely. It's an emotional roller coaster of emotions, but never do I look at myself in the mirror and think that this is because I'm inspirational. When you tell me I'm inspirational, are you telling me that I, Lydia, am inspirational? Or because my journey with mental illness and my desire to be open about it makes me inspirational?