I know I've been depressed since as early as middle school, not that I really understood what that meant at that age. I couldn't go to my parents with this because we were never a family that talked about feelings, we still don't really. I assumed that during high school I was just like every other depressed teenager with major highs and lows. The problem was after my teen years were over the depression still hung around, but I chose to ignore it.

All through college I kept myself so busy that I literally had no down time to really think about how shitty I felt. Once college was over the reality of it all sunk in and instead of actually dealing with the depression I self medicated with alcohol. The problem was that every time I got completely drunk I would sit in my room and cry. It was almost like in order for me to get out all of those feelings I had to be intoxicated. It really was such a vicious cycle. Sometimes I'm surprised that I'm still alive when I think about how much I used to drink. I went on like this for about four years when I decided to make a change.


I made up my mind that the only way I was going to be happy was if I moved away. In my head the source of everything that was making me miserable was the city I was living in, now I know differently. So, I picked up and moved to New York. The first couple of years living here was great, I felt like things were better and I was better. Then things settled down and once again I found myself back to feeling like that useless person that didn't care about anything.

Unfortunately, this time it was much worse than before. It almost seemed like there was a trigger that I could never pinpoint. I was crying all of the time, even at work. I would lock myself in a bathroom and just cry until I got it out and could go back to my desk and focus on work again. I wasn't eating at all, I lost 20 pounds in one month. I didn't want to be around anybody socially and when I was I felt like I had nothing to say because I honestly didn't think I had anything to offer. It was like I was walking around with a dark hole inside of me and I didn't know how to fill it. The only thing that kept me from suicide was my cat and I was making him sick. My depression was physically affecting my cat, it was unbelievable. So, I finally faced the fact that I needed help. I knew that no amount of self medication was going to get me out of this.


So, I started seeing a therapist and was put on medication. It took a while to find the right combo but eventually we found one that worked. It was pretty miraculous, I started to feel like a real person again. I know some people think that medication isn't the best way to go, but in my case it was necessary.

Unfortunately, now I have become one of the many unemployed people out there. It has been difficult using the money I get from unemployment for all of my expenses and my medication. But, I fear what might happen to me if I stop taking it. I don't think I could survive all of the rejection I receive on a daily basis without it. It is definitely a struggle, but my cat is still around to keep me in check.


Thank you for giving me an outlet to get all of this out. Even if you don't use this it felt great just to speak frankly about a subject I never talk about out in the open.


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