My Journey Through Depression

I've struggled with depression privately for about 8 years now. It started with a string of toxic relationships beginning in high school. You know, the kind of "relationships" where on Monday you're in love, on Thursday you've broken up, and then by Sunday you're back together? For years, I participated in "relationships" like that without understanding the damage those types of relationships can wreak on your psyche. It chips away at your sanity and your self-esteem and makes every relationship feel temporary and conditional. I know now, finally, 8 years too late, that's not the way a relationship is supposed to feel. Over the last 8 years, there have been some really good stretches of time where I've felt "normal" and then there have also been some really bad periods: unable to sleep, eat, think. During those times, it was hard. Probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do is get through those periods of darkness. I’d lose myself in times like that. I would teeter-totter between staying so busy that I couldn't think straight and struggling to find the motivation to get out of bed. Staying busy meant that I didn't have time to be alone with my thoughts, which was a good thing because my thoughts weren't healthy during those times. But the stress of staying so busy would finally catch up to me and I'd crash. I'd lose the motivation to brush my hair, eat dinner, call my mom. It took everything in me to make it to work on time. The fact that I finished grad school is still a miracle to me; a feat I attribute solely to my innate passion for the field in which I studied. It was hard. And miserable. And long. I'd look back at the previous years and think “how am I still feeling like this? Why can't I just be happy?” I live a very blessed life and I've always known it. I grew up in a privileged, loving family, have a close friend group, a good education, a great job but in the midst of depression those things lose their luster. You know they're there and you know you're lucky but you don't feel it. What you do feel are the bad things: the hum-drum dullness of day-to-day life, the rejections, the loneliness, the unanswered texts and phone calls. The sting of which radiates and fills your whole body until there's so much bad feeling there that there's no room for the good. There's something taboo about admitting you need help. It took me a long time to truly open up, to tell the truth about how bad it really was, and ask for somebody to point me in the right direction but when I did, it changed everything. About 8 years after I began to feel depressed I finally hit my peak. I was beyond sick. Sadness and emptiness filling what felt like every pore of my body and I finally had a long talk with my mom. For the first time, I was completely honest with her. I started counseling, changed my lifestyle, began taking medication, and everything shifted. Almost from day one, I started to see the light (and that's the perfect word to describe it after living in perceived darkness for so long). It's empowering to be transparent. I spent a really long time hiding how sad and alone I really felt so telling my friends and family that "hey, I really haven't been okay. I need your help" was freeing. I allowed myself to be seen and heard and loved for me, albeit a broken, insecure, hurting "me". Stepping out into the light again after a bad patch can be magical, it’s remarkably freeing to know that you can feel that bad and still come out on the other side. I believe that's probably the most immeasurable lesson I've learned throughout this journey: everything ends. Whether it's good or bad; a period in your life, a vacation with friends, a really tough conversation, a metaphorical dark cloud hanging over your head, it will come to an end and something new will begin in it's place. I've learned to accept that for what it is by trying to savor the happy times, relishing in the good feelings and gritting my teeth and powering through the tough days, remembering that nothing can last forever. Depression is a silent demon. It's fairly easy to hide and it can be embarrassing to reveal. Someone you know may be struggling and you could have no idea. Some of the best moments I can remember came in the form of little words of kindness from strangers who had no idea what they were doing for me. I may fall victim to depression again, there's no telling. But if that happens, I hope I can remember that in the midst of all the darkness, I've found an inner strength that I may never have known I possessed if I had never hit what has sometimes felt like rock bottom. “Not until trouble and heartache and sorrow came into my own life could I fully comprehend the words of Ian McLaren: 'Let us be kind, one to another, for most of us are fighting a hard battle." -an excerpt from a Charleston, South Carolina newspaper