I know my last post was a while back and the honest to God reason was that I was depressed. I was left in bed and felt like I could not get up.
For the better part of a decade I’ve had depression. I didn’t know that was what it was. I assumed I was sleep deprived from school and workload. I thought I was homesick when I went out of town for university. I thought fighting parents was understandably saddening for any child. I thought failure made me stressful and therefore sad.
I didn’t understand that I had depression until I was in my 20s. By then it was a relief to finally have a name to what was wrong with me and I could work with the rollercoaster of symptoms. And then real life happened and the pressure of living in the successful adult life was overbearing which culminated to 2017’s introduction of suicidal thoughts.
Who knew something so monumental that literally led to THE life changing decision could creep up so subtly and be acknowledged so casually?
By the end of August I was at my worst point and I was praying for a reason to stay on this Earth. I had been crying for the past few days and saw that it was my rock bottom.
I asked God, the universe, my mother for any reason to live to see another day. I didn’t get an answer except for the one echoing inside my head:
I have depression. I don’t need a reason to keep going, I need to have the will to find a reason to keep going.
My depression was telling me that I did not have anything to call my own and my world got dark. When I prayed, the conclusion was that just the act of wading through the darkness was what I needed. Everything is temporary and life is so much harder than death. To take a step
I know it seems cliché and I realize that the overarching characteristics of most mental illnesses are the same but the symptoms vary from each person.