In my attempt to avoid all cliché and reran definitions of it, depression sucks. It’s just a constant, heart-sinking feeling that makes you want to run away and ball up in a corner and cry. However, this feeling is something I’ve felt on and off since I was about 11—and though I’ve become familiar with it over the years and have learned more about it, it has still always managed to suck and there’s never been a time that it didn’t suck. It always sucks…it’s awful.
For so many years I went to therapy and was given prescriptions and pill bottles, and for so many years I rejected the doctors diagnoses and lied to everyone about taking my medicine. I made everyone believe that I was okay. I figured that I was able to handle my emotions like I had so many times before. I believed that my downs were only temporary and that my ups would follow soon after. I thought that medicine would change who I was — I thought that it would ruin the way I wrote, ruin the way I loved, and that it would completely alter my personality.
My thoughts and my lies about taking the medicine continued up until college, and that’s when everything seemed to get worse. I cried more often than I ever had before, I was ruining my relationships, and I was completely unable to pull myself out of the depression. So, I finally decided to make a change for the bettering of my own life, and of the lives around me.
In high school my problems and depressants were small, and I had a family and friends that I knew would never leave my side. I knew they would be there for me when I became depressed, and would help bring me out of it. But in college my problems seemed worse and less solvable; I felt more alone and less comfortable confiding in these strangers I called my friends. Even after becoming close with a few people, I still didn’t feel comfortable talking about my problems like I had once before. Because of this, a wall shot up between myself and anybody else close to me. As my problems and my articulation about my problems got worse, my mental health did too.
Over the past year I have completely spiraled down and out of control and every which way. Not going to the regular counseling I’ve needed, not taking the medicine I’ve been prescribed, and by bottling up my emotions, I became a monster.
Depression is a very selfish disease, and I let that selfishness take over my life.
I became a bad daughter. I was horrible to my parents, and wouldn’t return their phone calls or texts. They were concerned about me and I refused their help meanly. I became a bad friend. I stopped asking questions about their lives and stopped asking them to hang out. I even often avoided them, because I didn’t want to hear about their lives and about how happy they were. I wasn’t happy, so why should I care if they were?I became a bad girlfriend. I caused so much drama in my relationship with my boyfriend, the man I am absolutely head over heels for, and pushed him away in every sense. I cried non-stop to him, and begged him to take care of me. I accused him of cheating because I didn’t feel confident about myself–how could he love me if I didn’t love myself? Depression ruined my relationships.
I had been trying so hard to be a normal person by not having to take medicine and not having to go to therapy weekly that I actually ended up as quite the opposite of a normal person. I was unlovable and unbearable to be around, and was constantly crying and complaining about how awful life was. I was a horrible, ugly person who didn’t have any passions or love for anyone. Luckily though, I have amazing people in my life that chose to stick around even through my horribleness.
They listened as I cried about how sad I was, and held me as I longed that my life would end. They drove me and sat with me at my doctor’s appointments, and asked how I was feeling daily. They cared about me, and I only wish I saw that sooner.I want to thank everyone in my life who has helped me through my depression. Of course I lost a few friends during this time, but I would like to thank them, too.
So, thank you to those who stayed with me and decided to still be in my life despite how horrible I’ve been. Thank you to my beautiful parents for doing all they could to help me, between booking appointments for me and comforting me as I cried to them over the phone. Thank you to my wonderful friends who always checked up on me and asked how I was doing. Thank you for making sure I got out of bed in the morning to go to class and for giving me tissues when I cried. Thank you for fighting for me when I wasn’t strong enough to fight for myself. Thank you to my amazing boyfriend whom I love so dearly. Thank you for trying hard to understand my disease, and thank you for not judging me for having it. Thank you for loving me through my ugly times, my monster times, and my not-myself times. Thank you for always giving me a second, third and fourth chance, and thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for not giving up on me, or on us. When you hit rock bottom, there’s nowhere to go but up.
So, I guess I’m here and I’m on my way up. I’m on medicine, meet frequently with a therapist, and am giving myself some time to become stronger and better. As my support system and mental health is improving, so are my relationships. Even though depression tried to ruin my relationships, it didn’t win. I did.
Happy endings can happen for anyone, so choose happiness. Always choose happiness.
Depression is a serious illness, and if you or a friend are depressed or considering suicide, call this number. Don’t hesitate to ask for help. Life is beautiful and precious, and so are you.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1 (800) 273-8255 Hours: 24 hours, 7 days a week Website: www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org