I once read somewhere that you either stop writing because you're really happy or just completely utterly sad. Honestly, I don't know why I stopped writing like I used to this past month, I'm a happy person, I have everything.
By everything, I mean I have the guy of my dreams, a happy, healthy family, a roommate that cares and a handful of really great friends, I mean what else could a girl possibly want? I couldn't bring myself to form a real, happy smile across my face. It was like I was forcing it.
I moved into college a few months ago with the same stupid persona that everything was going to be better, I was going to meet better friends, my relationship would thrive, my skin wold get clearer and I would definitely not gain the freshman fifteen. The active, happy and loving person that I knew in high school immediately vanished and I lost sight of who the hell I was and what I was doing here anyway. I gave up something that I loved so much, the sport that kept me sane. I stopped eating like I did back home and often forgot that I needed to feed myself. I made myself think I was medically sick and went home just to come back to college and go through the same withdraw of something I didn't know.
The thought of depression never came crawling into my head until the doctor finally brought it up in discussion. I scoffed at the fact that someone like me could possibly be depressed. But that's what makes depression such a cancer; it visits the people who never thought about it, and can hardly handle it. The ones that think that crying in their room is completely normal. That is until they can barely breathe and actually pick up their cell phone and call the suicide hotline because that's what they read in an article somewhere.
I still to this day don't know what is wrong with me. My parents are the most loving, caring people in the world. My boyfriend would drop anything to wipe the smallest of tears away, and my friends at college would run down the stairs as soon as I text them that I "really needed them". How could I feel so alone when I had so many people around me?
It's so cliche that talking to someone can actually make you feel better, but God, it helps wonders. Writing about it can literally make you feel as if you're letting it come out of you never to be dwelled on again.
I was the girl who said that I'm definitely not depressed, but I was so wrong.