Depression and I are old friends; it’s a darkness that follows me wherever I go. I used to be afraid of the darkness, but now I am accustomed to it. Whether it’s a shadow lingering in the background, not letting me forget it’s still there or an all-consuming darkness, it never leaves. Some days we just sit in uncomfortable silence, other days there is a full on battle taking place in my head.

Although depression is not a tangible object that people can see, it feels like a whole separate entity. It is a dark force that brings out the worst in me. As hard as I try to put into words how my depression affects me, it’s never enough. Imagine having to describe the color blue to someone who cannot see. That is how it is trying to describe the battle I face daily.

It is an invisible battle which no one can see. It is easily hidden by a fake smile and laugh. I can keep it at bay until I am alone in my room, up until 3am, begging God to just let me get some sleep. To reenergize so I can fight it again the next day. Sometimes the battles continue into my sleep, haunting images taking over what should be peaceful dreams. Memories I would give anything to forget replaying in my head, usually leaving me more tired when I wake up than when I went to sleep.

As my mind wages war with the rest of my body, lines get blurred and it gets hard to know what to listen too.

I cannot tell you how much I want to live. I want to get married, have a lot of babies, spend endless nights with my friends, grow old with my boyfriend, see the world and most of all love every minute of it. In my heart, I know I am meant to live to an old age and accomplish all of the goals I have set for myself. My mind knows that most days too. It’s the days when the darkness takes over that are much harder to remember that.

Depression feeds lies to the shadows in my mind, which causes them to grow into the all-consuming darkness that takes over my thoughts. Voices whisper in my ear, telling me to give in. Telling me I should no longer be alive. Telling me no one needs me. Telling me my friends and family would be ok without me.

I’ve tried to drown these voices out with booze, boys, and pills. However, that only makes them grow louder. Twice I have almost lost myself to the darkness. Twice I have completely stopped fighting. But not anymore.

Although some days are harder to fight than others, I don’t let myself give up. I remind myself that this is not really me wanting to go. It's my depression trying to make me give up. My heart fights back with the message “you are worthy” harder and harder each time. I will never stop fighting against myself. I am a warrior prepared for a lifetime of battle.