Picture this:

You wake up one morning to find that there is a sabertooth tiger at the foot of your bed.

His eyes are bloodshot, his jaw wide open, fully displaying his outrageous 10-inch fangs that are lightly stained a faded shade of red. His nose is wrinkled in a snarl, and your heart drops to your stomach as your ears fill with the sound of his low, rumbling growl. 

Your heart is threatening to burst right through your chest, pumping outrageous amounts of adrenaline and cortisol into your bloodstream. You freeze with fear, you’re too scared to make a sound. He can sense it. You sit there for as long as it takes to muster every ounce of strength and willpower to pull yourself out of bed and run for help.

You try to tell people about the tiger, but they laugh and call you crazy. They say that you’re just faking it for attention. Even your loved ones don’t understand, they tell you that it’s all in your head. They can’t see him. You’re the only one who can, and you know he’s real.

Nobody else can see him, so you’re expected to go about your day as if it were a normal one. “An invisible large cat that went extinct 12,000 years ago following you around is no valid excuse to miss work, school, or any social event!” Daily tasks that seem mindlessly easy to others are as horrifying as fighting for your life thanks to his endless gnarling and taunting. Logical thinking, productivity, and attentiveness escape you - how could anyone possibly focus on things like algebra and trigonometry with a sabertooth tiger looming over their shoulder?

Sometimes he doesn’t bother you as much, keeping his distance but still lurking in the shadows, far enough for you to forget, even if it’s for a second, that he’s there. Other days he’s hungrier; he scratches, shattering your soul into fragments in one fell swoop. And just as soon as you think he’s becoming more forgiving, he bites; sinking his elongated fangs right through your heart as he drains every ounce of strength and confidence from your body. He doesn’t quite kill you, but the pain is so unbearable that you often wish he just would.

You close your eyes after an exhausting day of fighting for your life, holding onto a deteriorating ray of hope that tomorrow will be better; that by some miracle he’ll disappear. 

After a long night of restless sleep, you open your eyes - he’s there again. 

He’s always there.

Allow me to let you in on a little secret: 

This isn’t a story.

This is a reality.

The reality of over 450 million people worldwide.

Although nothing can come close to it, this is what it’s like to live with a mental illness.

To fight constant battles nobody else can see, let alone understand.

To be judged and ridiculed for your actions driven by a force invisible to everyone but you.

The tiger has hundreds of names: anxiety, depression, OCD, bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, autism, ADHD, eating disorder, Tourettes, the list goes on.

Be kind to those that suffer from mental illnesses, and choose your words with compassion, because even if you can’t see their tigers, I promise you, they’re there.