Depression

Depression. It's something that more people seem to go through now, more than ever. Have you ever felt depressed? If you have, has anyone shot down the idea that you might actually be depressed, just because you're not showing any classic symptoms (i.e: not being able to get out of bed, and not acting happy)?

I've been told "You can only be happy if you choose to be, and you're not choosing to be happy."

I was fifteen when my mother told me that there was a possibility that I could have depression. Back then, it was little, stupid things that made me depressed: not getting my way and my parents being everywhere I was.

The same year that my mom told me that there was a possibility that I could have depression, my health class was given a survey that was being conducted by the school's counselor. It showed, later on, that I did suffer from depression. For the next two-and-a-half years, I went for sessions with the school counselor. I found it really helpful to talk about the things that were bothering me; especially since there were sometimes group sessions with my friends.

In the middle of my junior year, my depression was tested again. My boyfriend was going on Independent Study, and I became depressed because I couldn't see him every day. Stupid reason, right? Back then, I didn't think so. Back then, I thought that if we weren't going to be together those eight hours of the day, that we would fall apart. Looking back now, I realize that my sixteen-year-old self was young, naive, and stupid. I spent three days just crying my eyes out, and finally, I was reluctant to admit it, but it was okay.

Later that same year, my mom picked me up from school, and I had noticed that she had been crying. I was instantly on alert when she told me that there was something important that she needed to tell me. Then she dropped the bomb: my parents were separating and were probably going to get a divorce. At that point, it wasn't just depression that swirled through me, it was anger and confusion, too. My world was falling apart. It went on for weeks; I was depressed and I was angry. The only thing that I had to look forward to was my friends at school. At home, my parents were acting as though nothing had changed... well, almost. My mom would go out with friends or take extra shifts for her waitress job. I spent most of my time with my boyfriend; he became my security blanket, and I became that annoyingly clinging girl that I always hoped that I wouldn't be.

One night, two weeks before summer vacation started, I came home from my boyfriend's house to find my dad asleep in the recliner. I asked what was going on, because I saw two packed bags sitting by the door. My dad told me that he was going to stay with my grandparents. Again, I was angry. I went to bed, crying.

A week later, my mom brought home her new "friend." He was about ten years older than me, and was her co-worker. I was angry, once again, mainly because my mom told me that I would be nice to him. I put on my best smile and played nice.

It wasn't like he was mean or anything towards me and my little brother, but, what I didn't like was the change in my mom. She got mad at me for wanting to pick out my carpet for my own room, she accused my friends of stealing her boyfriend's clothes, and even checked my dresser for them.

When I was eighteen, I married my high school boyfriend.

My husband and I have been married seven years, we have two kids. That didn't stop my depression from going up and down. I'm not the kind of person to lay down and let the depression fully consume me. I'm one of those people who's really good at hiding it, so I put on a brave face and throw myself into taking care of my kids and my husband. At night, when everybody is asleep, I might let my emotions consume me for a bit and I sit there, crying, as I let the heaviness of what I'm dealing with sink in.

My mom passed away from colon cancer a couple of years ago, and since then, I've been in a constant state of depression, self-loathing. But, I do what I always do, and I suck it up and take care of the people around me; because that's what works for me. What works for me, may not work for everybody.

The point I'm trying to make is, just because you aren't leaving bed and sleeping all day, doesn't mean you aren't depressed. You can be climbing up mountains, running 10k's, taking care of those around you, and still have those depressed feelings. It just depends on the person, and how they deal with those things.