Overcoming depression takes a lot, to the point where I’m still overcoming it to this day. But being a lot better than where I was with my depression, I’ve realized that what I’ve been through was so serious yet I didn’t take it like that. I was so blinded by my sadness that happy really wasn’t something I could be. Depression is like having a rainy cloud over your head twenty-four seven. No matter how hard you try to be happy, you're just not and it ruins you to see yourself like this, but what else could you be if being happy wasn’t a choice? A I needed was a fake smile and a pair of eyes that don’t look like you're dying even though inside your suffering because who would want to see you like that? Saving tears for two in the morning when you're considering whether you should even be on earth living with these happy people, not knowing that there are people like you and that talking to someone with your problems could be what you need. But god forbid you ever leave your sad thoughts, selfish right? Because I wanted to have a mental illness that stops me from being the outgoing and bold person I was and instead being someone who looked dull and overworked. Depression ruined me and my social life. It made my s***ty life a living hell and not being able to tell the truth when someone asked me how i was doing would ruin me, but all I needed was someone to figure out what was wrong with me, and time. Sometimes the person bringing you down in yourself. And time will heal it.

In life, people will dislike others or have an enemy. My enemy for the longest time was me. Whether it would be someone that makes fun of you, or yells at you. Criticizing myself was something I did so much and all it did was make things worse. I'm not very thin, and having to look as thin as possible was something I would strive for. I would get made fun of a lot and every time someone made fun of me it was like a bullet had just gone through my chest. I never really focused on the good things about myself. I felt like I was the only person in the world with acne, or fat on their body. I felt like a whale, there was always room for improvement. I would let such little things get to my head, that are now a speck of dust to me. All the judging I had done on myself lowered my self esteem and made me feel worthless. The feeling that your place on earth is unnecessary was all I felt, which let to the suicidal thoughts that swam into my mind. Thinking that if i died all my problems would go away, I could end my misery for good. But suicide has no time for regret, because you won't be alive for it. That's why knowing that there are other options are vital because it can just about save your life. It saved mine. But before things got better, they get worse.

Its twelve in the morning, my mom is on a business trip when I get a phone call. She called me up crying. I never see her cry, my mom is a strong person and to have her call me up crying meant something was wrong. Really wrong. Hearing the muffled words come out of her mouth, I knew she was in disbelief.

“You want to kill yourself?” The words fell out of her mouth and my heart sank to the bottom of my stomach.
A wave of shock and anxiety went through me. My night went from winding down in bed to sitting at my desk over thinking about what just happened. My pitch black room felt like it was shrinking and weighed down. Denial was the first thing that came to my mind.

“Mom why would I ever want to do that?” My voice was so shaky it was obvious I was lying.

I was sitting at my desk with my now sweaty hands over my forehead knowing that I let this happen. I needed to assure my mom I was happy even though I was suffering, Because hurting my mom was the last thing I wanted to do. But what I was doing would hurt her because on March 4th, 2015, surprise surprise your daughter is dead! What I was doing was straight up wrong. It would be terribly selfish of me to lie to my mom about a mental illness that was going to kill me. Comforting her was the last thing I should be doing and what I really should be doing is telling her I have a problem.

Seconds felt like hours and with so many thoughts running through my head I had stopped thinking and just told her. Over thinking those few words would lead to nothing good.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you that something isn’t right with me.” I was not expecting this was the day I was going to tell her something wasn’t right, but everything happens for a reason. And this happened to prevent me from killing myself and it’s the reason i'm here today.

With my body shaking and my heart aching with anxiety, thoughts were running through my head of how she would react because all that was coming out of the small speaker to my phone was dead silence. So many dreading questions that I couldn't answer, but to my surprise she wasn’t mad. She understood this was something that wasn’t in my control and that I was going to get help, but to never hide situations like this. Of Course I wasn’t okay with having to stay but I was assured I was going to get help and it made me less hesitant about talking to therapists and social workers.
One thing I learned that night, was that I was staying, but to comfort my mom, actually comfort her. it was the only thing I needed to do at the time, because her finding this out could have made her anxious and scared.

Getting off the phone with her was where my anger came in. It was dead silent to the point where I could hear a pin drop. There were no thoughts, just pure anger that my plan about ending my misery wasn’t going to happen. My fists clenching, the sweat making my grip loose and feeling pressure, like gravity was all there was in the world. But what I wasn’t thinking at the time was how my family and friends would react to this. Losing someone you love is very hard and if I was thinking maybe I wouldn’t have been so angry. All I knew at the time is that I was gonna have a damn hard time trying to be happy, and I was going to do it the hard way. But it’s the reason I am here today.

Sometimes the hard way is the right way, because doing it the hard way saved my life. If i hadn’t took the long route i would never go to high school, college, or have a family. Those key moments in life are so important and the fact that the dreading mental illness of depression can so easily take it away from me is the scary part. Depression was going to get the best of me and I wouldn’t have even gone done without a fight, but when you realize that there are more options, it can really turn the tables. It turned tables for me. But things aren't going to get better right away, things happen and can slow things down. It's okay to have some bumps in the road. Making sure you recover and don't dread over it your whole life is how you get through those bumps.

It was mid July, grandma had gone to the hospital for the last time. She had been in and out of the hospital with cancer for a while and she had gone through a long battle over the course of a couple of years. Having a fun day with friends turned into finding out my grandma passed away. But one thing I had learned from her death is that your life is so valuable. It really smacked some sense into my head. Going to her wake and funeral were some the the hardest days that I had to go through. And realizing that if I had commit because my mom didn't find out, it would look something like this and because I cherish and am thankful my family I wouldn't want them to go through my death. In times where you don't want to live, being selfless is the only thing that you can do. Putting my family through a tragic death, and having them know it could've never happened is something I would never want them to go through, but before going to the funeral I was to selfish and distracted by my own suffering that i wasn’t thinking about my family. But knowing that I am so much better than where i was 1 or 2 years ago, I am so glad my mom found out because I am overall completely fine with being alive. I got the help I needed. For some, staying alive can sound so simple and easy to do, but having a mental illness it's not as easy as it sounds and the fact that I pushed through the pain makes me proud because it gave me the opportunity to get my life back. 

Depression. My worst enemy, my bully. It had taken over my life and made it a living hell. It took my personality away from me and instead replaced it with suicidal thoughts. I felt like there was no way out of this hole I was in, and committing suicide gets you nowhere with no time for regret. That's what depression can do to you.

Questioning your life and planning on ending it should never happen, but when your suffering to the point of wanting to explode it makes you think stuff like that. It created a new person out of me, where the real me was in a glass bottle and taking the hard way out of depression is how to break the bottle. If it weren’t for my family, the hard way wasn't a choice. Having a mental illness is serious and telling someone you need help is vital to getting better. Telling someone is so hard If planning on telling them is all you've got, being even stronger than you are now is something to strive for because it will get your life back, I swear. There is no time for denial, because denial leads to regret. Getting help has made me realize there are so many people like me. And that i’m, we, are not alone. Its suffering and suicide, or help. And help is the hard way out, but it's a way out. It can save your life, it sure as hell saved mine.