When I was ten, I quickly became acquainted with darkly lit bedrooms and the hauntingly beautiful voices of the band Selah. When I heard the violins and strings coming from my mother's room, I knew they muffled cries. Growing up with a mother dealing with chronic depression and anxiety since her college days has made me into the person I am today.

It was probably the beginning of middle school when I started to notice something was off. I remember it becoming clear that my home life was different from my friends' when my mom hiding out in her room, crying, became the norm. The first time I acknowledged her situation, I looked up and asked her, "Mom, why are you crying?" She responded by hugging me and saying, "I don't know." One day, she called my brother, sister and I to the dinner table and told us she had something called depression and anxiety.

I finally had a name for her indescribable sadness.

I remember so many days, walking home from school to find her lying in bed, sleeping for hours. There's one particular image that has stuck with me for too long: I walked into her room only to find her laying in bed, hitting her head against the frame, in tears. I always knew my childhood was different than what others experienced. Lots of kids at my school had parents who were cheery and full of joy. Instead, my mother had a darkness consuming her life that she couldn't control.

I remember fully understanding the difference when I realized I considered a "good day" a victory. I also remember always feeling content when she was sleeping. Sleeping meant she wasn't in pain — she was dreaming and away from her sadness. My mother's battle with mental illness shaped me into the person I am today in several ways:

1. Awareness.

You have to learn how to read people when you grow up with a family member who deals with severe emotions. I picked that up pretty fast and easily learned when my mother was upset, on the verge of breaking down, doing well, putting on a happy face, etc. With that, I've grown up to be an observer who is aware of others. At times, it can be stressful, but for the most part, I believe this is a blessing.

2. Empathy.

I always considered myself to be a sympathetic person, but for the last 10 years I've gained a sort of empathy that can be a bit of a curse. When she felt pain, I felt pain. I felt the hurt in her voice, in her cries. I feel as if part of my soul is part of her. When you see your mother hurt, something in you breaks. Empathy and sympathy are so different. I definitely felt the difference when one shifted to the other.

3. Dependence.

I became dependent and hopeful on one little pill. Changing doses and praying the new ones worked was always a guessing game. Sometimes the medications would work for a certain amount of time, and then suddenly, they would stop having any effect. Putting it in simple terms, it sucked having to be dependent on something that involved so much patience.

4. Motivation.

There were days where she would refuse to get out of bed for work. This forced me to become a motivator who had to convince her that everything was going to be OK. My persuasive skills were strengthened, and I learned to present an argument that was convincing and motivating enough for her to believe me.

5. Appreciation.

I now cherish the good days so much more because I know they could just as easily be bad days. Dealing with my mother's depression has made me value every second of every day. "It's always darkest before the dawn." Sometimes, experiencing hardships can make one begin to appreciate the simple things in life.

6. Strength.

This may seem like an obvious one, but going through such difficult times really helps you develop your armor. Helping her through her fight has made me so comfortable with feelings and emotions. I am 100% capable of talking to someone who is depressed, scared, anxious, paranoid, etc. I am way more comfortable around these emotions than I was 10 years ago. I can also say that I'm stronger than I've ever been before.

7. Affection.

Seeing my mother hurt throughout my life has made me more affectionate in general. I now take every opportunity to hug her, to hold her hand and to say, "I love you." When you never know what tomorrow holds, it's important to let someone know that you care about them. I try to show her that every day, in some way.

My mother's struggle with mental illness has been tough, don't get me wrong. Every night when I went to bed, I prayed my mom would be happy. But we have grown so close throughout her battles. She has shown me how strong she is. She has shown me how tough she is. I've seen every side of her, good and bad, and I love all of them. She has become my best friend. I cherish every second we laugh and cry together, but mostly laugh. Her laughter is contagious. And all I can say is, I'm glad she's laughing again.