I’m not professionally certified to give advice about depression, or talk about how it works. However, what I can talk about is my own experience with it. I’ve read countless articles about people’s inspiring battles and recovery processes with depression, but I thought it relevant and necessary that people know what depression feels like. Because frankly, it feels like crap.

I remember the first and only time I’ve ever had suicidal thoughts. It was my senior year of high school. My home life was complicated. My grades were at an all time low along with my self-esteem. I was constantly having anxiety attacks. I wouldn’t talk to anybody. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. I didn’t think I was going to get into any of the universities I applied to. My future seemed to be extremely bleak and I thought to myself, what if? What if I just wasn’t here anymore? What if I removed myself from the situation?

One would probably think that suicidal thoughts are one of the scarier things in life. I thought so too until I actually had them myself. I’m not denying that the thoughts themselves were frightening, but even more frightening was coming to the realization that my mind was capable of conjuring them. Because until I actually had them, I never would have thought it possible.

Though my senior year was the only time I’ve ever contemplated suicide, I’ve grappled with depression since my junior year of high school. My realization of the fact that I was depressed was not sudden. I did not just wake up one day and decide I was depressed. It was subtle. It snuck up on me. One day an event with a negative impact occurred, and then another, and then another, until I was eventually worn down and not able to return to homeostasis.

There are three words which, when combined together, I think best represent what depression feels like. Those words are stuck, numb and helpless.

Stuck. Depression is feeling stuck in one place and not being able to do anything about it. You are stuck because you know you can’t go backwards but you also don’t know if you want to move forward. It’s scary, it’s daunting, and it’s very hard to come to terms with. I remember not wanting to be depressed but not knowing how to do that. I remember throwing fits because I wanted nothing more than to be happy. I remember being sad.

Numb. Depression is trying to act as if nothing is wrong when in reality, everything is. Nothing is particularly exciting, nor is anything particularly upsetting. You smile when it’s appropriate to smile, you laugh when it’s appropriate to laugh, but you are not in touch with your emotions. I remember not wanting to talk to people both because I didn’t think they would understand and I didn’t like pretending that everything was okay. Everything was not okay. I was not okay.

Helpless. Depression is you becoming smaller and smaller while the rest of the world continues to grow. You feel claustrophobic from the weight of any and all responsibility. Like something in you could “pop” at any moment. I remember being on edge, anxious. I remember having to leave class because I couldn’t stop my body from shaking. I remember feeling as if I had lost all control.

You do not fully understand depression until you’ve had to deal with it yourself. And while it is not an experience I would wish on anyone, I think it is important to know how it feels. Before experiencing it first hand, I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to harm or kill themselves. I didn’t understand how a person could use depression as a reason not to go to school or work. I didn’t understand the feeling of not wanting to get out of bed in the morning. I didn’t think depression was valid.

You do not have to live it in order to feel sympathetic. I want to live in a world where everyone is aware that mental health is just as important, if not more important than physical health. It took me a long time to realize that, but I did.

I’m currently a sophomore in college. Every week is filled with stress, but I know how to better handle it. If I’m feeling particularly down, I’ll stay home, I’ll call my mom, I’ll cry a little bit. I’m learning how to create my own happiness, as cheesy as that may sound. I’m not stuck. I’m not numb. And I most definitely am not helpless. I am okay.