I once was diagnosed with chronic depression. You see, I was only a junior in high school and had just returned from a mission trip in Kenya. My re-entry into the U.S. wasn't going so well and I was also dealing with some PTSD from an accident that occurred on this trip. I guess to make this all a little easier to understand, I should explain to you the root of my PTSD....

We were teaching in a school supported by my church. This church was located in the middle of a slum in Kiamaiko, Kenya. This slum was filled with hundreds of shacks made of scrap metal and cloth, these being what they called their homes. The dirt road was covered in feces and trash and the shacks were squeezed like sardines in such a small area, this made the road very narrow. One day, we were leaving the school to head to dinner a little later than usual, when two Kenyans were fighting on the side of the road. We were in a huge tour bus on such a small and narrow road, that one of the men involved in the fight was pushed up against the bus, slid down the side, as we were still moving, and we ran over his head. Yeah, graphic. I was seated in the window seat above the tire that crushed him, leaving me with unexpected and unforgettable images. These images appeared in nightmares for several months following the trip. I still to this day have flashbacks when I drive over a speed bump, or when someone says the common phrase, "don't throw me under the bus." It's not anyone's fault I have these flashbacks, so naturally I have trained myself to suppress these emotions, which ultimately led me down a spiral of physical and emotional issues I now have to deal with on a daily basis.

I have never been one to openly talk about my emotions, so even writing this article is difficult for me, especially when I had no idea who to talk to or how to talk about the incident. I isolated myself and began to hate everything about America because I was also dealing with re-entry issues involving the culture shock. I blamed everyone around me for my problems and I began getting physically ill because of my suppression of my emotions. I would puke multiple times a day and was constantly running a fever. I had abdominal pains and began to feel like such a burden, I pushed all of my friends away and even tried pushing my family away. I was in and out of the hospital for several months, with no answers to any questions, still unaware of what was actually going on within my body. The doctors told me after several procedures and surgeries that all of my physical issues were stress related, but I was so angry at this point, I refused to believe it. I was in such a dark place in my life I don't even remember smiling for several months because I was so angry at everything. I completely turned into my own worst nightmare, when I used to be such a bubbly and outgoing person. I had to go to counseling weekly and get put on anxiety and depression medication, which only made me angrier. Then one day, I couldn't find any more anger.

This is when I realized the incident in Kenya was just an accident and that there is nothing I could do to change it. I realized my anger toward everyone else was just me projecting how I felt about myself on everyone around me. I realized my depression and anxiety was really all in my control and ultimately my fault. Not that it was my fault in a bad way, but in the sense I had the power to change it. I began to notice how used to thinking negatively I was that it had become a habit, I realized how I no longer had drive in school or in my social life and that was because I isolated myself, even when some reached out. I realized I had lost about six months of my life to this depression and would never get those months back. This realization made me change for the better. I began to mend the relationships I ruined and accept the blame for it. I began eating better and exercising more. I began thinking of five things I was thankful for that day every night before bed to get out of my negative habits. I began going back to school. I began my life again.

I thought my issues were worth taking my own life a lot of the time. I didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel for several long months, but I am so thankful that eventually I did because I wouldn't be here today otherwise. I thought my mental illness defined who I was and who I was going to be. I thought it was never-ending. The truth is, you will have to deal with mental illness, but it does not control you, you control it. It took me about six months before I began to turn my life around. I could blame every possible circumstance during that time of my life, but I know that I am to blame. I allowed myself to get to that dark place, which I would not wish upon anyone else. I had to learn coping methods and anxiety relief strategies. I had to learn to love myself above all else. I was so hateful and I had to learn how to make myself happy again. I learned I had to forgive myself before I could move forward. Small changes in my daily routine made big ripples. Whether it was making sure I was confident in my appearance when I left the house, or it was thinking of the positives of the day before going to sleep at night, making a lunch instead of eating fast food, these little things made a huge impact.

I know this may seem like a sad story, but I wanted to share my story with you to help you understand whether you know someone with a mental illness or you have one, the illness is not the end of the story. I encourage those dealing with a mental illness to focus on small changes in your life that would help make you happy and kick that illness's ass. Those of you that know someone with a mental illness, continue to encourage and support them, but understand that their illness can drown out who they once were, but they are still in there, deep down. Dealing with mental illness is never easy, but if I hadn't gone through this, I wouldn't be the person I am today. My illness made me stronger and my depression did not define me.

I am now in my second year of college and have joined a sorority that taught me to be strong and lead myself, along with leading others. If I let my mental illness define me, I wouldn't be the person I've become. I look forward to each day now and hope everyone can experience that. I am surrounded by a loving family and supporting friends and I couldn't be more thankful.

My depression taught me how to take control of my life.