If you or someone you know is suffering from depression, know that you are not alone. The number for suicide prevention hotline is 1-800-273-8255 and you can also chat live with them. You can also text the Crisis Text Line by texting START to 741-741. You are not alone.
My story of depression started when I was a junior in high school in the late 90s. I was fresh off of being diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa and having to adjust that the life I was going for was no longer going to happen. I was never going to drive a car or enlist in the Navy or a lot of other things I wanted to do. There were some kids at school, the ones who stand out in my memory and not my good friends, that thought I was faking it and said so to my face. A lot of what kept me going was that, in two years, I'd have a fresh start. I wasn't staying in state for college - I felt that as soon as junior year started, even before the bullying - and I put every fiber of my being into grades. I did have a lot of suicidal thoughts, but couldn't bring myself to do anything. Most of it comes from the fact that I was brought up with the idea that suicide is a cardinal sin and the other part was I didn't want to disappoint my family. I shudder to think about how my life would be as a high school in society today and I am so happy I made it out before the internet took over the world.
Back then, from what I remember, depression wasn't talked about like it is now. I didn't really know where to go or what to do, only that I was having these thoughts, and I am forever grateful that I had my mom to turn to. I got into really good counseling through the Salvation Army that was close to my home at the time and I made it past that point in my life. I did take some medication, that I was weaned off of / made a decision that I didn't like it, and I just went for talk therapy. It helped a lot to have someone to talk to that wasn't related to me, didn't take my side, and made me take a step back to think about what was happening around me.
I don't look back at it as surviving depression, because it's still here. It sneaks up on me from time to time, usually in the dead of night when I don't have anything on, but the time usually seems to be around 2 or 3 in the morning. The good news is that I've gone nearly two years without that sort of thought in my head. Sure, I'll still cry for no good reason sometimes and I have thoughts where I beat myself up for saying or doing the wrong thing, but it's so much better than it was. It's getting better everyday, considering those times are coming more when my time of the month is around more than anything else. Even that's happening less and less, mostly because of how I changed how I eat (Google Happy Thin and Free - Susan Peirce Thompson is who you're looking for) but I know my signs. I know my triggers. I'm not above getting help if it gets back to where I was in high school.
The "It Gets Better" project has it right, not just for LGBT kids, but for everyone. It does get better. I'm doing what I love, even though I'm still editing the damned book while writing the second and third ones, but I'm happy. I do wish I could reach back and give the young me a hug. To tell her that you do eventually accept who you are because you find some kick ass friends when you go to college. That it's coming up on seventeen years of knowing them in August and you still talk to the core group of them. I'm not sure where I would be if I hadn't been diagnosed but I am happy for the journey that I've been blessed with.
Until next time, keep on writing.
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