Depression. What a heavy, often used — and just as often misused — word. We've all been around those people that throw this word around aimlessly. Sometimes we even do the throwing ourselves unintentionally.

Recently, in my life, I have been hearing this word a lot more than usual. In the past couple months, there have been four devastating events involving students from my hometown and centered around mental health. In my writing class, the word depression seems to pop up in our discussions at least once every class period and I noticed that about six out of the twenty students participate in the conversation. I tried to figure out why only a few students wanted to participate. I've come to the realization that not everyone is as apt to share their personal feelings on the subject as everyone else. That would be fine — except for the fact that most of the kids not participating in the conversation were on their phones.

We are 18 or 19 years old. We are at the peak of our brains development. Needless to say, the feelings that we might have been feeling strongly in high school are going to get more intense in college for a number of reasons: our friends are different, most of us are living on our own for the first time, school work, we're lonely... the list goes on and on. I've had numerous discussions with people on the subject but I wanted a new perspective on the topic because I realized that all the people I talk to have the same opinion as me.

Out of curiosity, I asked my Bulgarian grandma what she thinks. (For those of you that don't know, Bulgaria is a country located in Eastern Europe between Greece and Romania. If that didn't help you, go to Google Maps.)

Once asked about her opinion, my grandma clicked her tongue in a very dismissive Slavic manner; I knew exactly what that meant. “Depression is something made up by the very weak, overly sensitive people in the world,” she said. In my head I was thinking: If that is true, then I am both of those things. That caused me to chuckled a little.

She proceeded to say, “Everyone has the capability to bring themselves out of whatever. If you don’t make yourself feel better, no one else will."

My grandma kept saying that she is never lonely, never unsatisfied. I asked her, “How can that be? Never?”

“Never.” She said. “Why would I be lonely or unhappy when things like friends and books and T.V. exist? Being unsatisfied is a mental process. It’s a mental construct that you lay upon yourself.”

She closed the conversation with something she has been telling me since I was a little girl. "If a person does not laugh until they have tears in their eyes at least once a day, they are not living a quality life. Remember that."

My grandma’s entire thought process revolved around the idea that we are capable of digging ourselves out of our own holes, which was extremely inspiring.

Now, if you ask me, I think that is a very idealistic approach. Depression is way more than just being sad for few days. It's deeper than that.

But this conversation I had with my grandma makes me wonder if it's that easy to get over it.

I don't know if you guys have ever had days where from the moment you wake up you feel like you haven't slept in ten years. The thought of getting up in that moment is just the farthest thing from your mind. And if you do decide to get up, the entire day you just lug around, lacking energy. Depression can feel like that, but worse. It's feeling like there is a constant black cloud hovering over your every move. The simplest of things get difficult: even eating, walking, and getting dressed.

The conversation I had with my grandma led me into a spiral of thought. Is the cultural difference the only reason my grandmother has a different take on what depression is? Does age have to do with it?

Why are some people so emotional at this point in their life while others are just living, not minding their emotions as much? Is that a cultural thing? Are some people stronger, more in touch with their feelings?

Sorry to disappoint you all, but I don't have the answers to these questions. I feel like if I did, I'd be the human version of Wise Rafiki from The Lion King.

My point is that I don't agree with everything my grandma said about depression. But she's not the only one that believes that. You could ask any grandma in Europe and she would probably say the same thing. You could probably talk to a lot of people here in the States that would agree that depression is fake, too. This isn't because they aren't kind-hearted human beings. The times are different, the way we deal with things is different, and our values are different.

If there is anything that you should take away from this article, it's to remember that communication is empowering. There is a strength in owning your narrative. It's empowering to realize that you are not the only one going through whatever it is you're going through. There are so many people who have felt similar things, cried over similar situations and have experienced similar moments of heartbreak.

I think there should be a more frequent and open conversation regarding mental health. One where our phones are turned off.