While depression and its symptoms can seem obvious to some, to the person experiencing it or those who have not been through it, it seems like a foreign concept. It can be hard to fully grasp the magnitude of the overwhelming, near life stopping, feelings of sadness, lack of interest, anger, worthlessness that someone can feel when depression hits. The other issue is that everyone that has had depression, may cope and deal with it differently.
Something I often hear from others who have gone through depression is that it is not the depression itself that is hard because you learn to cope and recognize it after awhile, but rather the lack of sympathy and understanding often from those closest to you and from those who think it is just about sadness. "Do something that makes you happy", "Cheer up", and "Lighten up" never help when you feel like you physically can not do anything.
My journey with depression started when I was young, in grade school. I was a weird kid so I never had many friends and even the few I did have I did not feel close with. I remember feeling like people hated me, like people thought I was weird and that if I let anyone be to close they would stop being my friend once they met my brother. My brother is two years younger than me and has a Pervasive Developmental Disorder (PDD); he is essentially a highly functioning autistic boy, he is so bright and smart but is emotionally eight years old. Until recent years, we had no real definite diagnosis on him so growing up he was a time bomb, cool one minute and not the next. I sheltered myself, I did not invite people over, I never sought out other kids to play with during recess.
After fourth grade we moved up to my current area and I was not sure how to handle it. I was the youngest in my grade at nine years old and culturally I was different than everyone for once. I felt like an outsider and while I gained a few friends, I still kept them away from learning about my home life. I went to two new schools in two years, first a new elementary school and then middle school. I vividly remember my parents divorce in seventh grade and being told it was not my fault or my brother's fault but still blaming both of us. Maybe if we were like the other kids this would not have happened.
Once I got to high school things had started looking up. I had some friends and interests and was a bit optomistic for the future. And then I had the rug torn from under me again just as I was gaining my footing after the divorce. November 8th, 2011 is a day I can only remember in patches and bits of sound. I lost my grandpa, Owen Sturm, that day. The only way I can describe my feelings from the rest of the year is just feeling empty. I remember being so angry, so upset and so confused for a long time. After a month or so I remember this pit in my stomach. Everyone seemed to be moving on, slowly, very slowly, but surely. I did not want to be alive. I did not want to live in a world where it felt like no one was listening, even though I could not even raise my voice enough to ask for help. I felt so done with everything and all I wanted was for the pain in my gut and my mind to go away.
I remember eventually reaching out and saying "hey, I need someone to talk to. I just want to talk, please". I got help, I was able to talk to my therapist and my mom and the school and finally felt like I was being heard. But by that time I had lost touch with a lot of my friends and was forced to make new ones, which stung me.
To this day, I still have moments where I feel the depression and struggle to make it through the day even with support from those around me. I am making it through though, even though at one point I thought I never would. I am stronger than my depression and I will always be grateful for the lessons it has taught me.
