What I Hope Others Learn From My Depression Story

For seven years I have struggled with severe depression, anxiety and insomnia. For six years I kept my lips sealed and did nothing. For five years I did not know what was wrong with me and how it wasn’t normal to feel so sad all the time. For four years I pushed aside my feelings and did not acknowledge them. For three years I wrote down every single feeling and every single reason behind every single tear. For two years I secretly wrote down the reasons I wanted to die and how I would die. For one year I tried to save myself. And now, right now in this moment, I am writing this to warn the others who struggle like me. I want to stress to you to seek help before it becomes too late.

People will claim they understand or have felt “depressed” before, but it does not relate or reassure anyone. Honestly, I feel a little offended. Everyone is entitled to their own personal feelings, but how could someone casually throw around a word that has killed so many people? In today’s society the word “depressed” gets tossed around too lightly, when oftentimes if you have depression, the word itself is too heavy to even roll off the tip of your tongue. Emotions are precious and essential to life. The good and the bad are just a part of this tragic world we live in, but emotions are vital to growth. I am not saying people who say they have experienced depression are claiming a false depression. There are different forms and levels and I think everyone has experienced it in different ways.

I personally have lived a life that felt like hell for the past seven years because of depression. For seven years I have silently struggled and lost a piece of myself every second that has ticked by. Depression is merciless. Most nights I lie awake at 4:30 a.m. praying for sleep to save me from the horrors inside my mind. The worst part about depression, anxiety and insomnia is insomnia makes me afraid of the night, while depression makes me afraid of the day. I live my life in a sea of unbearable anxiety and I am slowing losing strength to tread water. I have unknowingly hidden depression deep within the cracks of the foundation of my heart. Depression, anxiety and insomnia have a vice grip on my heart and are squeezing it relentlessly to the point of utter destruction.

For seven of my 19 years of existence, I have had this sense of sadness seep into my bones. My eyes are scarred with a deep look of tragedy and my brain is deeply disillusioned. My bones ache from sadness. My bones creak and crack as if I am 60 and have lived an entire life. But the reality is I am only 19 and have barely scraped the surface of life. I now must find a way to save myself and redeem those seven years before it becomes too late. So I urge you to heed my advice, seek help before you can look back at the past seven years and watch them count down to self-destruction. I hope in seven years time I will be able to count down to right now — this very moment — and look at the growth from the emotions I have felt these past seven years. Depression is a process, whether you allow it to wither down your existence or build up your story is solely up to you.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

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