Here's a little true story for you.
When I was a kid, I was never afraid of spiders. I didn't get it. Everyone would always freak out about them but I never understood why. To me, there was nothing to be afraid of, they were tiny, infrequently seen and essentially harmless. But everyone I knew, loathed them. After so long watching my sister, mum and friends screaming when they saw a spider, I found myself jumping up when I saw one scuttling my way. Because unbeknownst to me, these people who I trusted, respected and loved were more influential than I could imagine. Then I began screaming too. It soon developed into a genuine, debilitating phobia, and to this day I have a crippling fear of the bastards.
And when you look at that, it's kind of scary in itself.
The blogging world is rife with talk of mental illness right now. As someone who has suffered and also spoken openly about my experiences, it's quite comforting thing to see how people have dealt with and overcome this, and how some people have been leading examples of how it really does get better.
But on the other hand, it worries me deeply.