Feb 2017
Depression - My Story
I suffered in silence. For months, I felt like I was making excuses for myself and being lazy. The once bright, smart, cheerful me disappeared a bit at a time. With each wave, I'd feel more exhausted than I already did before. I felt tired, hopeless and dead on the inside for as long as I can remember. I started losing interest in some of my favorite things and even basic things like eating and showering had drained the living daylight out of me.
And then I tried to reach out to my friends. My head was telling me that I needed help, I couldn't do it on my own anymore. My body was reluctant but there were only two obvious options - help, or death. I tried therapy once, I gave up. Soon, everything kept *******. My life was out of order. I couldn't get out of bed for days, I was self-harming. I saw myself get into substance abuse and was counting on alcohol to get me through my days.
My grades suffered too, I could no longer focus on anything at all. I couldn't sit through a 2 hour movie, I couldn't pay attention to a one hour lecture, I couldn't finish a novel for over 6 months and I still haven't ( I'm the kind of person who finishes at 400 page novel in 2 days, mind you ), I couldn't hold conversations without zoning out. My sleep schedule was altered terribly and all I thought about was death. I was numb, emotionally empty and gone. I had lost my willingness to live and through all of that, I kept pushing myself to achieve good grades just to prove that I could do it. That, being my biggest mistake.
Each time I felt like I had won the battle in my head, it would last a week at most. I would then find myself falling into the same black hole and crawling, choking, gasping for air and trying to find my way out of it. I felt like I was doomed into eternal damnation and that was it for me. My life was over.
And then, came hope.
I think I finally accepted how terrible things were after my numerous suicide attempts, and soon I had no choice but to leave my Pre-University course and seek for help, and this time quitting was not an option. I will always remember the day my parents and I decided that I would pack my things and leave college immediately. Two of my closest friends sat on my bed, we held hands and exchanged prayers for my recovery. These are the very friends who opened their home for me every time I had an episode. The very friends who rush from class with food for me every time I am too tired to get out of bed. The same friends who cook dinner for me, wake me up each morning. Send me messages of encouragement, and most of all - constantly pray for me. The same friends who saved my life, time and over again. And through it all, chose to love me without ever complaining.
Order still isn't restored, I still have my ugly days. I still see my psychiatrist, I'm still on antidepressants. But now, I know that my life isn't over. As a matter of fact, my life has just begun; and I have a purpose. One of my greatest dreams is to inspire people and so, I want my story to make a difference to anyone who feels like they are alone. To anyone who feels like the answer to all your suffering and pain is suicide, to anyone who feels like depression has taken over their lives and to anyone, who feels like no one understands. To anyone who feels like it is over.
Depression isn't just the lack of love, it isn't just the loss of a loved one. Not just how you feel after a broken relationship or when you fail your exams. I had more love that I ever deserved, I had all the support in the world. I had amazing people around me who more than anything - wanted me to survive. I'm not there yet, but I know that some day, I will be.
My depression does not define me. My scars carry more stories than my heart ever will, and my smile, it carries stories of how recovery; like I once said, isn't a myth. It is possible.
Through it all, I owe my greatest thank you's to my family, friends, lecturers and psychologists for never once giving up on me, even when I did. To the people I barely even knew who reached out to me every time I was starting to sound suicidal on my social media accounts. For never complaining, for being my rock. I love each and every one of you so much.
A little note to you, reader.
Hey you,
First, I want to tell you that you have nothing to prove. You live for yourself and every single one of us has a different journey. I want you to know that things will get better. It sounds clichè, I know. Everyone says the same **** thing, I know that too. But I promise you, the sun will rise again and the storm will pass. Darkness will evaporate and light will surround you. The weight of the world will be lifted off your shoulders, and life will restart. You will live, you will get through this. I am with you. Now, and always.
I suffered in silence. For months, I felt like I was making excuses for myself and being lazy. The once bright, smart, cheerful me disappeared a bit at a time. With each wave, I'd feel more exhausted than I already did before. I felt tired, hopeless and dead on the inside for as long as I can remember. I started losing interest in some of my favorite things and even basic things like eating and showering had drained the living daylight out of me.
And then I tried to reach out to my friends. My head was telling me that I needed help, I couldn't do it on my own anymore. My body was reluctant but there were only two obvious options - help, or death. I tried therapy once, I gave up. Soon, everything kept *******. My life was out of order. I couldn't get out of bed for days, I was self-harming. I saw myself get into substance abuse and was counting on alcohol to get me through my days.
My grades suffered too, I could no longer focus on anything at all. I couldn't sit through a 2 hour movie, I couldn't pay attention to a one hour lecture, I couldn't finish a novel for over 6 months and I still haven't ( I'm the kind of person who finishes at 400 page novel in 2 days, mind you ), I couldn't hold conversations without zoning out. My sleep schedule was altered terribly and all I thought about was death. I was numb, emotionally empty and gone. I had lost my willingness to live and through all of that, I kept pushing myself to achieve good grades just to prove that I could do it. That, being my biggest mistake.
Each time I felt like I had won the battle in my head, it would last a week at most. I would then find myself falling into the same black hole and crawling, choking, gasping for air and trying to find my way out of it. I felt like I was doomed into eternal damnation and that was it for me. My life was over.
And then, came hope.
I think I finally accepted how terrible things were after my numerous suicide attempts, and soon I had no choice but to leave my Pre-University course and seek for help, and this time quitting was not an option. I will always remember the day my parents and I decided that I would pack my things and leave college immediately. Two of my closest friends sat on my bed, we held hands and exchanged prayers for my recovery. These are the very friends who opened their home for me every time I had an episode. The very friends who rush from class with food for me every time I am too tired to get out of bed. The same friends who cook dinner for me, wake me up each morning. Send me messages of encouragement, and most of all - constantly pray for me. The same friends who saved my life, time and over again. And through it all, chose to love me without ever complaining.
Order still isn't restored, I still have my ugly days. I still see my psychiatrist, I'm still on antidepressants. But now, I know that my life isn't over. As a matter of fact, my life has just begun; and I have a purpose. One of my greatest dreams is to inspire people and so, I want my story to make a difference to anyone who feels like they are alone. To anyone who feels like the answer to all your suffering and pain is suicide, to anyone who feels like depression has taken over their lives and to anyone, who feels like no one understands. To anyone who feels like it is over.
Depression isn't just the lack of love, it isn't just the loss of a loved one. Not just how you feel after a broken relationship or when you fail your exams. I had more love that I ever deserved, I had all the support in the world. I had amazing people around me who more than anything - wanted me to survive. I'm not there yet, but I know that some day, I will be.
My depression does not define me. My scars carry more stories than my heart ever will, and my smile, it carries stories of how recovery; like I once said, isn't a myth. It is possible.
Through it all, I owe my greatest thank you's to my family, friends, lecturers and psychologists for never once giving up on me, even when I did. To the people I barely even knew who reached out to me every time I was starting to sound suicidal on my social media accounts. For never complaining, for being my rock. I love each and every one of you so much.
A little note to you, reader.
Hey you,
First, I want to tell you that you have nothing to prove. You live for yourself and every single one of us has a different journey. I want you to know that things will get better. It sounds clichè, I know. Everyone says the same **** thing, I know that too. But I promise you, the sun will rise again and the storm will pass. Darkness will evaporate and light will surround you. The weight of the world will be lifted off your shoulders, and life will restart. You will live, you will get through this. I am with you. Now, and always.
