depression · healing

Hope and change and other fancy stuff

Hello again, dear readers. Let’s talk about change. Change can be a great thing, or it can be a not so great thing. It can also affect your life in ways you never dreamed possible.

The first morning I woke up after receiving my diagnosis, things had already changed. I laid in bed and thought about it all. Though the medication hadn’t even had time to kick in yet, I already felt different. Just knowing that I had help, and knowing that I had a way to combat all of these feelings was a little shining ray of hope.

That day, dear readers, despite being only two weeks ago, stands out to me as a massive turning point in my life. I was able, for the first time, to imagine my future as something happy. I was able to imagine a future where maybe, just maybe, I could be content with what I had and I could be happy with when I had done in my life. Now, dear readers, don’t make the mistake of thinking that I was miraculously cured, or suddenly happy, because I wasn’t. No, I was still the same old me. Still an empty sack of human being, emotionless and gray. But amidst all that gray, I was able to catch that little ray of hope, simply because I knew I wasn’t alone.

The thing about being alone is that you get used to it. I myself got so used to it that I never thought to turn to anyone else for help. I was so terribly accustomed to the feeling of not being able to share with anyone that when the time came, I was still hesitant. If I had known how much it would help to share, I would have long ago. I urge you, dear readers, share. You’re not alone.

Hope, for me, was sharing. Hope, for me, brought change. And change, for me, was what I had been searching for.


The Doctor

I’m back, my dear readers, and today I would like to share with you how this all began.

Looking back, I can’t pinpoint a day or even month in which I started this journey. I can recall back as far as the seventh or eighth grade having these feelings, just not on such a large scale.

I think that depression isn’t something that just happens one day. It’s not like a heart attack, or like a case of the stomach flu. There isn’t one definitive way of knowing. On the contrary, it builds up over time. You start noticing things here and there, and you think “it can’t be. I can’t have depression. I’m normal. I don’t wanna cut myself or die”. As true as that may be, listen to the warning signs.

The day I decided to see a doctor was a big day for me. A large step in the healing process. I had held back for so long, afraid of telling anyone, and afraid of being judged. I wasn’t one of those girls who cut, or wrote sad poetry, or wore all black. I wasn’t tragic or lonely. I had friends and a family who cared about me. I thought that since I didn’t fit into any of the book or movie or television stereotypes that I had to hide it.

I beg of you, dear readers, if you feel like this, please don’t hide it from anyone.

The first person I told was my boyfriend. He notices everything about me, and he could tell when I was having one of my off days. Those days where no matter what I accomplished, how much he told me he loved me, or how much outward fun I had, I was still feeling hopelessly empty inside. Even knowing that he knew, it was still a hard conversation. He eventually convinced me that I should talk to my doctor, if not for me then for him.

You see, that’s one of the things about depression. You never do stuff for yourself, because you just don’t deserve it. I mean, you do, but you don’t think that you do. But I knew I had to do it for him. He deserved everything that I could give him. So I called the doctor and made an appointment.

I was numb for most of the appointment, and numb while picking up my prescription from the pharmacy, all I could think of was “why me. Am I broken? What’s wrong with me”. Later that night, I drove an hour to sit down and tell my parents. This, my dear readers, was the hardest part of the whole journey so far.

The second the word depression left my mouth, my own mother held up a hand and told me that she didn’t believe it. Before the rest of my sentence was finished, she told me that I had friends, I had a loving family, I had a great education, a great boyfriend, and was getting everything I wanted in life. I let her finish her bit, and then I told her. I told her that I knew all of that, and that was precisely why I was seeking help. Because no matter how much good there was in my life, I was still just an empty husk of a person. And even after I acknowledged how happy anyone else in my shoes would be, I still didn’t feel happy. That moment dear readers, was so liberating.

With my parents and my boyfriend in the loop, and my medication in my pocket, I headed back home hoping that the next day would be a fresh start. And it was, in more ways than one.

depression · introduction

Hello, World

Hello, dear readers.

None of you know me, but that’s okay. In time, you will.

We live in a world where some people glorify mental illness, and some people don’t acknowledge it at all. When it’s something beautiful, or something tragic, it grips society like a fever. Communities show their support. People band together like never before. But when it’s something more hidden, less tragic and beautiful… That, my dear readers, is when you have to be there for yourself. In fact, you might even compare it to the prom queen and a geek. Everyone loves the prom queen. Hell, that’s why she made queen, isn’t it? But the geek. She gets looked over by the cute boy she has a crush on. She gets passed up by the popular cliques at school. And that is precisely why I’m here.

I guess not everyone in the world knows what this is like. For me, it’s become something normal. Something so normal, in fact, that I forget on occasion that my closest friends and family aren’t also feeling what I’m feeling. I’m here to walk you all through it. And by it, I mean everything.

I’ll start with what I’m feeling now, and work my way up. Dear readers, I’ll take you every step of the way. From day one, today, until you no longer need me and I no longer need you. I hope that by the end of this, you can see the prom queens and the geeks of the universe as the same people, because in reality, we are.

Soon, dear readers, we will be the best of friends.