When starting my journey to recovery I was so eager to get a label for what was going on inside my head. I just couldn’t wait to be labeled so that I could work really hard to fix all of my problems. A label to me meant that I could finally find other people that understood and could relate. A label meant that I would be cured of my mental illness. I felt horrible because my behavior was just fueling the stigma and a label meant I’d finally take real action. I didn’t know how to share all of my horrible experiences and a label was going to make them all better. With a label I thought I wouldn’t have to constantly explain myself to others and that the label would speak for itself. I needed a label to protect me from people. If I could just be labeled I’d be able to explain all of my suicide attempts. Well my label seems to change every couple of months and the feeling isn’t good at all. I’m done trying to please other people. I don’t need a label in order for people to treat me fairly. I been trying to fix the way people view me by labeling myself and it’s done nothing for me except cause me to feel more hopeless. I suffer from mental illness and no label is going to change that. What is changing is the way I manage it one day at a time.