For as long as I can remember, I have been depressed. When I would complain about it to my grandparents they would tell me to “suck it up,” “people that cry are weak,” or say “big girls don’t cry.” So all of the feelings I had, I kept bottled up because I couldn’t talk to anyone in my family and I felt like none of my friends would understand. Ever since the fifth grade I would get involved in art like painting, jewelry making, and ceramics just so I could find an outlet for my depression.
I was so depressed because I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. Even in high school I still carried all of my insecurities and depression with me. I thought about committing suicide just so I wouldn’t have to go through anymore pain and I could finally feel free; I just wanted all of the pain to go away. When my father got diagnosed with cancer my sophomore year of college, my depression hit an all time low. Eventually, my mother told me to go to counseling and I did.
The counseling helped but I soon realized my depression went beyond what was going on with my father. My senior year (this year), my depression got worse. It felt like a big cloud drifting over me. I have been dealing with it for so long that I just learned to live with it. However, it became too much to bare and I went back to counseling. I got a larger dose of the anti-depressants but I still wasn’t feeling any better. I felt like I was in the sunken place like in the movie “Get Out.”
Weeks went by and the feelings just intensified to the point where I was thinking of committing suicide. Days went by and the thoughts still hadn’t gone away; they got worse. When my doctor asked me the question, “Do I feel safe with myself?” I answered truthfully and said, “No.”
I then went to a Psych ward for three days to try and get some help. There, I learned coping mechanisms, stress prevention and so many other things to help me cope. I also learned that I’m not alone and there are so many people around to support me. Being at the ward made me realize that even though my depression is a part of me, does not mean it will own me.
*All thoughts and opinions are of the author. If you’d like to share yours, please email xavier@hercampus.com
*If you know someone who is depressed, please don’t hesitate to help them