There I was at 12, doing the one thing that no human should ever do. I was putting a death sentence on myself. I never thought I'd live to see 18. The first time this thought ever came to my mind, I was 12. And that was when I began drifting into the dark dungeon of depression. Though there were many external joys, when I was alone enveloped by the realities of my life, the internal joys were not present. I inwardly didn't know what happiness felt like.

This was my life for years. I searched for the happiness in death and self-harm. Anything that could take me was welcome. By my own free will, I had a long stay at Long Island hospital, and after that, an even longer stay in a Pennsylvania group home. My depression worsened being out of state. Mixing with the depression was anger. Anger at family situations. Anger at the world and most important, though I couldn't see it then, anger at myself. I kept telling myself that there was no purpose for me here, on this earth. If I wasn't a burden, I was a liability. My wheelchair and disability made sure of this.

At the age of 18, I saw no light at the end of the tunnel. The tunnel represented my life, the closed in, claustrophobic part of it and there was no way out. Did I have dreams? Yes. Did I have hope? At the time, absolutely not. How could one do something as positive as dream, if they were in a dark place such as depression? My answer is that the dreams are that sliver that may keep you holding on.

Long before I identified my depression, I wrote. I wrote songs and poems mostly. I enjoyed it, but gave it up when I saw no future. As the Internet became popular, so did the things that I wrote. Once people began to show me that there was a reason out there, on the other side of my tunnel, I had realized that I was scared of death, and that I had a talent that was handed to me. Things are never actually handed to someone, but they are placed before you for a reason. What you choose to do with them is on you.

Depression and the constant thoughts of suicide were hard on me. You could only imagine the toll that it took on me in every sense. It was a very dark and dismal place to be. I was there and I lived it. Most of the people around us may feel that it is a state of mind that we can just up and get out of, almost as easy as getting out of bed in the morning. It is not. It takes you over and paralyzes you into a state of being that is beyond your control.

I am a recovering mind and body that has dealt with depression -- both successfully and unsuccessfully. This article isn't aimed to drag you into the dark side, but to allow you to see that there is hope. I am the pillar of that hope. How I wish I had someone years ago tell me this and mean it.

I am a high school, business school and college graduate, with four books published, many awards and accolades behind my name, but most importantly, I overcame the dark hell of depression.

There is hope. Depression doesn't have to lead to a death sentence, and suicide is never the answer -- trust me.