"Why are you depressed?"

I hate this question. It's one of the reasons I very rarely reach out when I'm having an "episode," as I call my excruciatingly unbearable nights.

The silent killer of depression crept into my life seemingly without warning when I was fifteen years old, still in the prime of my high school days. And it's only gotten worse since.

I remember hearing about teenagers who self harmed or wished they weren't alive, and I remember thinking how? How could anyone possibly be that sad, especially at such a young age? I mean - despite my chaotic household and distant relationship with my father, all I've ever known is happiness. I was so care-free and smiley all the time growing up. My 9th grade brain couldn't comprehend how someone could genuinely want to harm themselves like that. "I'm never going to be depressed," I had told myself confidently, as if it was a simple choice to be made.

Then it washed over me out of nowhere. To this day, no matter how hard I try to think back to those years of my life, I cannot remember what set this disorder in motion. No major triggers, no life changing events; All I know is that I haven't had the same spirit in nearly seven years.

Within these seven years I've experienced severe social anxiety, sexual harassment, an eating disorder, bipolar depression, and the cherry on top of this shit-sundae that is my life: my father passing.

Each one of these things took a heavy emotional toll on both my body and my mind, obviously. I've worked so hard to cope with my struggles, and it was hardly a perfect recovery; in fact, it was barely manageable. However, I am still standing, so I must have made some progress, right?

Still, in spite of all this, sometimes I have no idea why I'm feeling so depressed. One day I'll be feeling "okay" with my above problems - I'll look in the mirror with confidence, feel at peace with the loss of my dad, ready to take on the world. And yet a cloud hovers over me, a bleak reminder that the darkness in my brain always lingers.

Nobody is ever satisfied when I say I don't know why I feel depressed. It's unacceptable.

"How can you not know why you're feeling like this?"

"I don't know."

"Is it your dad?"

"No."

"Is it your self esteem?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know!"

Then they become frustrated, almost angry. They want answers, not vague responses. Their hearts are in the right place and they just want to help. When the problem isn't as simple as desired, they feel helpless. "I don't know how to help," is something they might say in defeat.

Friends, family, random people you might have these conversations with...listen: It's okay. It's okay if you don't know what to do or say, we don't expect you to know because we don't know either.

When I say "I don't know" it's not to be standoffish, or to fish for attention or be needlessly difficult. It is because I genuinely, wholeheartedly have no fucking idea why I am the way I am.

Depression isn't always circumstantial. Of course certain situations or events can trigger a depressive episode, but sometimes it's more complicated. There is a physical chemical imbalance in my brain that I can't control, as much as I would love to have that ability. Life would be so much easier if I knew how to "fix" myself and have "normal" emotions. Sadly, that isn't the case. Believe me, I wish I could always pin-point a reason for my excruciating sadness, but sometimes I just can't.

When someone suffering with mental illness is in this type of "I don't know why I'm depressed" state, it's important to remind yourself of simple compassion, even if it doesn't make sense to you! It most likely doesn't make sense to them either.

Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not say anything along the lines of "but you don't have anything to be depressed about."

Please.

More likely than not, we're well aware that our lives are presently "happy" and therefore we should be too. In fact, knowing that we should (and want) to feel differently, fuels our self-loathing and encourages us to isolate from others because we don't want to be seen as burdens to the people around us.

Mental health can be tricky - and even scary - not only to those who suffer from the disorder, but for loved ones as well. But it doesn't have to be so complicated.

Listen. Provide support. Give endless love. Have honest, open communication.

And please, when you ask me why I feel the way I do and I say "I don't know" I hope you understand and accept that answer.

Because I really, honestly, truthfully have no idea.

And it really sucks.