Overcoming Depression

"Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you cannot bear the pain, but you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel all you are beyond that pain"

—Kahlil Gibran

Imagine being in a dark room with only a single beam of light shining in.

You know the light is there but no matter what you do you can never hold on to it. Meet depression.

It consumes you, eating away at you until you don't know who you are anymore.

As a victim of depression, I know what it's like to feel hopeless, trapped in a trivial world were my favourite thing to do was sleep to escape reality. Depression affected the way I saw the world. I had no interest in family or friends. It wasn't a case of happy or sad, positive or negative. It was as if my emotions abandoned me, leaving behind an empty shell.

My depression was hereditary, passed down to me through previous generations. I was fourteen, a first class honour student, and a volunteer in my community. Enjoying all life had to offer when suddenly a black hole came and swallowed my world. The changes were drastic and within a short period of time. In the simplest terms, my life became a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. In my mind, family, friends and education, weren't enough anymore. Nothing seemed worth the effort. I wanted to find my purpose, the reason I was here. I would cry for hours for no apparent reason. I couldn't laugh or smile, because to me these emotions didn't exist in my world.

I don't remember the exact moment I became depressed, I didn't wake up one day and decide I was empty. It was as if the feeling was always there and just needed to be awakened. I withdrew myself from everything and everyone I loved. I adopted an all black "goth" wardrobe. Not so much to be different, but to fit in. To be labelled a "freak" by society was better than being ignored completely. I cut obituaries out of the local papers to read about emotion, the love people felt for those they've lost. I wanted to feel something, anything, so I started cutting myself. In the beginning it worked. When I was upset, confused, or feeling empty. I would cut myself, arms, legs it didn't matter and instantly I felt better about being me. I was in control, or at least I felt I was. Soon, this too became just a numb reminder of emptiness and the scars were getting harder to hide.

My parents fortunately realized I needed help. They saw changes in my normal behaviour and began to worry. At first they blamed themselves, though it wasn't their fault. Depression is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain and needs to be professionally treated. They didn't expect for me to "snap out of it," they knew it wasn't a matter of choice. It was beyond my control. My parents took me to a psychiatrist who specialized in childhood depression. There, I was diagnosed with Major depression, also known as clinical depression. I was put on Zoloft, an anti depressant and sought therapy. Both treatments have been proven to help patients in most cases. Understanding what was happening to me and that I wasn't alone were the most difficult steps I had to overcome. With the help of family and friends I slowly took back control of my life. It's been nine years now since I've sought help and I can feel again. I now live each day to the fullest, enjoying every moment and having no regrets.

By Kristen Jones