They always said I was quiet. Reserved. Sweet. Kind. Silent. And for a long time I believed what everyone said. And in the midst of believing them, I learned to silence the sorrow in me. I couldn’t tell them that I was suffering when I never spoke to anyone about anything meaningful. Everyday was a battle for me in high school and I never wanted to admit to myself that I was suffering from depression.
Depression. My Haitian family wouldn’t have taken me seriously if I was to even mention I was depressed, so I never did. I constantly gambled with myself, saying that if I could make it through the night I would try to be happier in the morning. Every day I would lose that bet.
It was hard. Harder than I would like to admit to anyone. I called it falling. When I felt depression seeping its hands back into me, I felt as though I was falling. Falling into a pit of pitch blackness. And I wanted to scream at myself for letting it come back again. I was doing so well. I was enjoying life. I was talking more. I was breathing!
Those days where I smiled and meant it were the best days of my high school journey. But most days, most days were an endless cycle of never feeling as though I was enough. Never feeling as though it was worth getting through another day because the day after that wouldn’t be any better.
At the beginning of high school, I had one friend. But when I would go home, the only friend to greet me would be my bed. That’s where I spent my time. Laying in my bed over-thinking and doubting myself in everything I did. I kept my head in my studies and I read so many books just to escape the world I lived in. That’s how I made it through the nights.
Why was I always so skeptical of myself? Why did I always ask who would miss me if I didn’t come back or wake up in the morning? Why did I always fall into the darkness called depression? Why did it hurt Every. Single. Day.
I DON’T KNOW.
I just know that it was real, but I am still here. Breathing. Smiling. Laughing. There are still days when I feel the depression, the infinite sorrow. But it’s a battle and I know that.
However, I will still love because that’s what God intended for me. I will still feel because I am human and I will still make mistakes, but I know there are people who care about me and my silence will be the death of me if I let it. So I won’t.