I've avoided writing about such a heavy topic because I feel like no one will care. Some probably truly do not. I'm still not feeling very comfortable as I type this.

We've been together, my depression and I, for about 6 years, and our relationship is very private. We often crack little jokes with each other and we're all the other has. The best part about it is nobody knows we're together.

It usually shakes me violently awake and doesn't let me leave my bed. It lays right beside me as my mother cracks open my door to see if I'm awake. She doesn't notice it as it clings behind me, under the covers. It holds my tongue hostage when she asks, "Are you okay?" I want to say "no," but it won't let me.

Sometimes I can't even be vocal with myself about what's wrong. I just know something is.

It then becomes an issue when people don't believe when you are "in a mood" or when you're just not feeling like yourself. It's the worst when the people closest to you aren't aware of what is really going on. But that's okay, because we have each other. That's all it ever tells me.

You've probably heard "You'll get over it," or "What do you have to be sad about?" more times than you'd like to remember. It sucks because you want help so bad, but depression makes you feel like there really is no point in asking. It may seem like an excuse not to say anything, but it can be extremely hard when you're menacingly embraced by the constant negative thoughts that rest in your head. You especially do not want to be a bother to everyone else around you, because why ruin their fun with your Debby Downer attitude? Just stay home.

I'm not the best person to give advice because I've never sought the proper help. So I won't, and it won't allow me to. That's just the way we like it.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255