I can remember being diagnosed with a mental health disorder for the very first time. As I sat in a hospital in the mental health ward, I can remember sitting in front of a doctor. And this doctor told me that I had depression and anxiety. Well no shit I thought to myself. You might ask me If I was scared or terrified? But No I was just numb. And I just wanted the hell out of that hospital. I wanted to be in the comfort of my own home, the comfort of my own bed. I was very angry and I was very depressed with my life. Was there a certain thing that I was angry or depressed at? No I was just depressed and angry at the world. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just go home, why I had to be locked up like a prisoner. Yeah maybe I was depressed but I still didn’t understand. I was surrounded by people that I didn’t know, I had to sleep in an uncomfortable bed and I was woke up every morning at 8 AM. Every day was the same in there, I had a shower, ate the awful hospital food. Then we would work on school work, once again eat the awful hospital food and then have a group witch could have bin doing art or doing mental health booklets or what not. Guess what was for dinner? Yep awful hospital food again and then family could come in. My family came in most nights to see me and it was vary hard to see them because all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there. On weekends it was pretty much a free for all, well not really as I was locked up but I met a guy in their who I was vary close with and we were the only ones left on the ward as the other youth and kids got weekend passes but we were the unlucky ones who had to stay there. I remember his mother came in and we sat there all day playing cards with her, witch I guess I can say was not so bad. After the weekend was over I met with my psychiatrist Who finally told me that I could go home. I thought that I’d be happy about going home but in reality I was getting comfortable staying at the ward. But don’t get me wrong I was ready to go home and sleep in my own bed. Now I can realize that being stuck in that psych ward did help me even know I complain a lot when I was in there. it helped me get a sense of routine that I needed in my life and it helped me realize that I did need to change. I needed to do something with my life and I needed to find a purpose. Now I am 17 and living a life that I never thought I would or never thought I would get to live. I can truly say that I am happy and I love getting to help other people by public speaking on mental health. So now I take being locked up in a psych ward as a lesson and also as a blessing in disguise that you don’t realize is a blessing until later on in your life. So what I can say is take the bad in your life and turn it into good.