An Anxious, Depressed Illusion of the Mind

by Juliet Spanjaardt

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From age six I felt depressed,

Without passing a certain test.

Because the only results I got,

Were some suicidal thoughts.

And the more that time went on,

The more I didn’t feel strong.

But it didn’t kill me, in hindsight,

So I guess Friedrich Nietzsche was right.

Having had no physical inclination or reason to feel this way for so long, I knew there was nothing and no one to look to other than myself. This propelled me into becoming my own psychologist, and researching everything I needed to know about mental health and spirituality. This is why I write about these topics today to help people, but I am getting ahead of myself…

No one really knows what they’re doing in life. And if they say they do, it’s an illusion of their mind.

I never knew though because, as early as age six, I knew I felt different. This is about more than being a unique child who doesn’t fit in anywhere.

School, primarily being social in school, is what fucked me up the most. And I felt very angry about it for years. I was supposed to be interested in what we learned, playful about what we played with, kind to who I was with, and I needed to listen to teachers who knew what was best? I sure couldn’t do that, which made me adopt a persona who could.

And I loved being her, because people would always react so positively when I was. So, how could I ever go back to who I was? People didn’t seem to like her. So, I didn’t either, which was sad, and exhausting. And anxiety-provoking! And hopelessness crept in, because I couldn’t be myself, ever again.

This behavior instigated a heavy period in my life. The more I embodied the “perfect persona”, the more anxious I became. The more anxious I became, the more hopeless I felt. The more hopeless I felt, the heavier my depressive feelings became. This is a lot of weight to carry for a now eight-year-old, isn’t it? That’s why I stayed home a lot. Because there, I was safe. But, feeling completely safe did not exist.

At home, my anxiety skyrocketed to inhuman capacities. “What are they thinking about me at school as I’m sick again?” “Is there a way for me to never have to go to school again?” “Who is ever going to understand me about how I’m feeling?” “Why do I feel this way?” “Is there a way out?” “Nobody knows who I actually am.” “I don’t know who I am.” So, in order to be safe, I took this persona into high school positively expecting some kind of change.

Just kidding!

Afraid I was,

Of my thoughts,

About the kids,

Who seemed to know shit.

There wasn’t a place in the world that truly felt safe to me. Either at home, at school, or in public, the persona always seemed to take over. This survival mechanism was automatically put in place whenever I was with other people. I felt so threatened by how other people lived and presented themselves, that it turned me jealous and bitter. This, apparently, has nothing to do with age.

People constantly showed me what I was not, and it made me lose myself in the process of becoming. And when I finally was alone, the world did seem to stop. But after a while, my mind started spinning again. Because in order to survive this cruel world, I needed to continuously think about what others were saying, thinking, or could possibly do to me.

Everybody knew stuff about life I simply didn’t. They seemed to know how to behave, how to act around other people, and how to speak their minds. Some people even had romantic relationships, which gave me another reason to feel jealous, because it actually was the thing I desired the most. To be loved, just for the simple act of being me, seemed like a dream that could never be fulfilled. Because how would that go? If I started dating someone, it meant having to create a whole new persona just to fit into that role. I probably wasn’t even meant to be dating because there was no one to date. And whenever I tried to do that (there were some attempts), it provided me with nothing but the feelings of suffocation and stress. “What is wrong with me?” “Why can’t I just take a break?” “Is there a way out of here?” “I feel so stuck.” “How can I get out of here?” “Is there a way out of here?”

Why yes; there is! It’s called drugs.

And it was fun; for a while at least. Because nobody told me that drugs and alcohol came with a certain phenomenon known by us anxious folk: Hanxiety: an excruciating physical pain combined with a horrifying play-back loop of all the embarrassing things I did last night.

Whoa! Sounds great! Sign me up!

These feelings never go away,

The more I try to play,

And the more I am me,

The worse I shall feel.

In my opinion, there was no light at the end of the tunnel when I was in high school. I was feeling the exact same, but worse. My depression and anxiety truly peaked there. They peaked especially after me being held back a grade, as high school wasn’t exempt from me staying home a lot.

I physically couldn’t deal with people’s opinions, the hangovers filled with anxiety, the fake persona I had created, and the criticism about me being sick a lot. I wanted to leave; this time permanently. So, I tried, but I couldn’t. Something always held me back from actually doing it. “You can’t even do this simple thing? How stupid are you?!” “If you don’t do this, you will be stuck here forever.” “The pain is never going to stop.” “We will always be here to hurt you.” “Nobody likes you and nobody ever will.” “Just do it.” And that one is not from Nike. But I still couldn’t do it, so I eventually dropped out. Out of school, I mean.

It was the only thing that would save me. It was the only thing that could.

Are you sure?

Now it’s unsure.

And you don’t know,

How it’s gonna go.

Now, I will be saved!

Now, everything is going to be okay!

Now, I will never have to suffer again!

Now, I can finally have my happy end!

Now.

At least, that’s what I thought. As the unsure path unfolded in front of my eyes, my sight became weakened. I didn’t see my future anymore. Even though I hated every minute of being in school, at least I kind of knew where the path was going to take me. Now I have to make all of the decisions for myself? But I never learned how! “Someone needs to teach me; someone needs to save me! I can’t just make decisions for myself. I can’t even take care of myself! How am I, Juliet Spanjaardt, expected to know what I need to do when I need to do it?”

So, I took a break from life, from school, and from work; but not from drinking or partying. I guess for a while, I needed to fully feel what it was like to be at the bottom of the rock, otherwise known as rock bottom. And you might wonder how I wasn’t diagnosed with anything by now. Well, it kind of helps when you are too proud and convinced of your own intelligence to want to do everything yourself. But also very scared and questioning what it would feel like when someone says that you’re crazy, unhinged, neurodivergent, or outside of what we call normal.

The thing about rock bottom is that you can’t fall further down, no matter how hard you try. This is why my parents forced me into therapy, which did help for a while. But, most of the realizations I realized throughout my life were all done without any help and I believe this is why it was so hard. But isn’t it funny that I wouldn’t have done it any other way? Because while I used to be totally dependent on everyone’s validations, it now is the complete and utter opposite.

My life pretty much continued to be the exact same after this. The only thing I ever wanted to experience was the independence I had never felt before. As the only true happiness—and I guess independence—I can remember feeling before the age of six, it still isn’t a true depiction of an adult’s independence. So, the next phase of my life was one of self-discoverye, while still combating the feelings of depression and anxiety daily.

And I did go back to school; only to realize it didn’t interest me.

And I did go back to my incessant thinking; only to realize I didn’t have to.

And I did go back to heavily drinking; only to realize I could just drink one.

And I did go back to giving up on myself; only to realize I could pick myself up, AGAIN!

So, what’s actually changed? After having experienced a life full of negativity, anxiety, and depression; I still am who I am: a complex, undiagnosed human being, who’s depressive and anxious feelings mostly have subsided. I needed a quarter of my entire lifespan to realize that nobody actually knows what they’re doing in life. Nobody is doing it perfectly, and nobody ever will. I always thought people read this rulebook about life that was secretly being kept from me. But if there really existed such a rulebook, this is what it should say: No one really knows what they’re doing in life. And if they say they do, it’s an illusion of their mind.

If you or someone you know may be in crisis or considering suicide, please call, text, or chat the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline at 988.

​EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR / EDITOR: Gabriel Nathan | DESIGN: Leah Alexandra Goldstein | SITE ORIGINATOR: Bud Clayman