...my struggle, battling with depression
The first one in the series
I am not looking for sympathy from anyone nor do I want anyone to pity me. But I write this for anyone who cares to understand the struggles that some people have to go through every day. For those of you suffering from your mental health disorders, remember that you are not alone, you are my heroes, you are all amazing.
This is for those who choose to live on even when their minds betray them…
Have you ever felt your chest suddenly tighten and you no longer can breathe?
Let’s talk about how difficult it is to just tell someone about being sad for no reason. Having that heavy feeling on your chest for no reason. Let’s talk about how hard it is to understand why you’re having a panic attack while just taking a walk back home.
About the time when you do open up to the person you trust most, your insides are screaming in resistance and your heart is beating madly, but then you look up and they’re not even listening to you. Let’s talk about the time they do listen but then distance themselves from you. Not because they hate you but they want you to try to bring yourself back, back home, to yourself.
My rational mind can actually see that I have nothing to be so immensely sad about yet I just can’t shake off the monkey on my back.
The first time I was suicidal was in 2017, in my sophomore year. I felt that my world was falling apart and everyone else seemed happy. At that time I was also having problems keeping up with school. l had no idea what we were doing in any of the courses I was taking that semester, I was failing all quizzes, exams, and assignments. I didn’t know how I could be helped so I never even approached any of my lecturers. At some point, I just stopped going for classes altogether. Everything became hard work, from getting out of bed, bathing, getting dressed to even feeding myself.
In as much as I talked about death a lot and it seemed like the easiest way out of my predicament, I was actually very scared of death. I remember the day I collected all the bottles of pills I had in my locker. I wanted to swallow all the pills as soon as my roommates left the room. However, I still sent my best friend an email and deep down I was hoping he would see it quickly and come before I took those pills.
For some reason that I still don’t know, all my roommates never left the room. My friend came later after his class. We sat there together and I was just crying uncontrollably. I didn’t even know why I was crying. That day we decided that it was time to reach out to a counselor. I was diagnosed with clinical depression later that semester.
Talking about it has proved to be helpful, at least for me.
I finally decided to write about my struggle because these last few days have been hell, again. I thank the good friends and family who have been there for me. I want people so close to me yet I keep pushing everyone away.
This last week I needed someone to keep telling me I wasn’t going crazy. I needed someone to just keep telling me all was going be well during the long, sleepless nights and someone to keep telling me that they actually care. At the same time, I wanted to be all alone in my room.
There are good days, and there are bad days. Days where I honestly can’t handle going to class. There are days that I struggle with every little thing. It’s upon those days when I am thankful, thankful for these friends who get me through my battles, those friends and family who are thousands of miles away but still take their time to text me to help me get through my pain. I could never get through the bad days without them.
There are good days you’ll smile without having to force it, then there are very bad days you will just want to hide under the blankets and cry.
Too many people out there suffering in shame and silence. You don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out, they are some people out there who actually care.