Having lived with anxiety and depression for approximately 6 years, it's unsurprising that I've lost things to my illness along the way. Passions.
Once upon a time I loved art. I have a framed drawing of Amy Winehouse which I drew when I was 15. It's one of my favourite pieces. It was also one of the last things I drew.
Now that I'm in recovery from self harm etc., I'm hoping to get back into art. It's going to be tough. Last time I sat down with the intention of drawing, I had a panic attack...but what can I say? I'm stubborn, and I don't like that my mental illness took such a large part of my life away from me. I didn't complete my art GCSE, which is something that still makes me sad.
Admittedly a GCSE in art isn't the most practical qualification in the world, but it was what made me happy. Who knows, maybe one day I'll go back and get my qualification. If I do, it'll effectively be me giving anxiety the finger.
Just because something's been taken from you, it doesn't mean you can't get it back.