My alarm goes off. I squeeze my eyes tighter and pull the covers over my head. I let out a loud groan and feel warm tears start to form in the corners of my eyes. I roll over and check my clock. 12:30 p.m. I’ve been trying to wake up for the past two hours; I’ve set alarms for every 30 minutes, but I keep shutting them off. I stare at my ceiling. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Every bone in my body aches, and my muscles feel like they’re incapable of moving. My eyelids droop slowly; I got 10 hours of sleep last night, but somehow I feel like I got zero. A wave of dread and dismay washes over my body, sending a chill up my spine. I feel absolutely miserable. I go through the list of things I need to complete today, and I feel considerably overwhelmed. The thought of going to class today makes me want to break down. Hell, the thought of even getting out of bed seems impossible. I look around my room. I wish I could just stay here forever. There’s no way I can make it through this day. I feel another wave wash over me. I sigh deeply. I pull the warm covers off me and set my feet on the ground, and it feels like the whole world has come crashing down on me. Just another day.

It took me about 16 years to realize that it’s not normal to feel that way in the morning. I’ve found that waking up is the hardest part of my day — not because I’m physically tired, but because I’m already emotionally drained from the day that hasn’t even happened yet. To me, depression isn’t just a mood or being in a funk; it’s an extensive and meticulously thought out lifestyle. It’s when your entire being is sore from emotion. Food tastes bland, but you have to eat something. Every day tasks like brushing your teeth or making toast for breakfast seem like huge mountains you have to climb over. It’s staring in the mirror and wondering if there’s even a point to anything in life. It’s sitting in your room at 2 p.m. on a Tuesday looking at nothing and thinking that this endless void is going to last forever.

I’d like to say these feelings eventually go away, and if you just have a good attitude and gumption, everything will get better. But it doesn’t — at least not that I know of. Depression doesn’t just go away because you want it to; it stays despite your tireless efforts to just be normal. It’s with you when you go out with friends, when you ace a test, when you go on your first date, when you’re driving with the windows down on a beautiful summer day and when you finally go to sleep at night. It gives you higher highs and lower lows. It’s something I cope with every day, and it never leaves my side. Depression is something I’ve lived with for a small part of my life, but I’ve found it has had a monumental impact. It does not discriminate and, most importantly, it wants you dead.

I guess my overall point here is that despite my constant feelings of impending doom, I think one day, eventually, in the near or distant future, I’m going to be OK. Whether my depression actually goes away or I just learn to accept it, I will be OK. It can be hard, but I just have to remind myself I will always have people that love and care about me. I have to do my best to ignore the little voice that tells me I'm useless and disappointing. It’s through the support of my parents, friends and my dog (no, seriously) that I’m here today. The best thing I can do is take life one day at a time, defying all odds and doing the best I can with what I have. All I want is to be able to say one day, "I made it. Here I am, despite everything that has happened. I'm here."

P.S. Just remember that there is always someone out there who cares for you and loves you more than anything in the world. Stay here for them.