Every Cloud has a Silver Lining

"Depressing" is a word that is constantly overused in today's world.

Chipotle ran out of guac? Depressing.
Hot famous guy got married this weekend? Depressing.
Sappy love movie that makes you wonder why you're still single? Depressing.

I admit that I was one of those girls that abused that word for a very long time. Whenever things didn't go my way or the way I thought they should go, the situation made me "depressed". Looking back, I realize that those things do make me slightly disappointed, but not depressed. The actual definition of the word depression is "severe despondency and dejection, typically felt over a period of time and accompanied by feelings of hopelessness or inadequacy". I mean, the fact that Nick Jonas isn't going to ask for my hand in marriage is a little upsetting, buuut it doesn't cause me to feel miserably dejected or some deep dark hopelessness. I didn't really care about what it meant to genuinely be depressed until it happened to me.

The people who know me well know that I have been struggling with depression for about a year now. (For those of you who don't know me well, SURPRISE, I HAVE DEPRESSION, not to be confused with my diabetes) Don't be offended if I didn't come right out and tell you about it, it's not really something that you can bring up in a normal conversation.. Anyway, I'm writing this blog to share a little bit of my journey and some of my thoughts about what it's really like to have clinical depression.

Story Time (the abridged version)

I had always considered myself a happy and outgoing person. Super involved, good student, solid family life, rockin' youth group.. I was living the (practically) perfect life. All through out junior high and high school, I was very much confident in who I was as a person. I liked the people I was around, and people liked me (I hope). Maybe I'm romanticizing the past too much, but I really did love almost every moment of my stellar existence. That was, until things started to rock the boat. I've mentioned it before, and I'll probably say it a million more times in my life, but I absolutely despise change. Things hit me hard and hit me fast in the span of my senior year. I had never had to undergo so many trials in such a short time frame.. I was comfortable in my little bubble, why on EARTH did any of it need to change? I still don't fully understand why my life unraveled the way it did, but I'll just continue for the sake of time...

All of a sudden I was a freshman in college. On my own, in the big bad world of Steubenville (haha). Suddenly, it dawned on me that no one knew who I was. After working so hard to be a senior leader in high school, I was just a face in the crowd. This security blanket of being so well-known in my community at home (I'm not famous or anything, we're a small bunch of people) was snatched out of my hands. I had no idea how to cope. For some reason I felt this overwhelming sense of loss in the pit of my stomach, I had lost my identity and there was no way I was getting it back.

If I could pin-point the moment when my depression made itself known, this was it. Of course, there is a lot more to it, but this whole identity crisis was definitely the straw that broke the camel's back. I knew something was wrong with me, I just didn't want to admit what it was. I told myself that everyone gets sad sometimes and that I would bounce back in no time. Except, I wasn't just sad and I wasn't bouncing back. After watching several of my close family members battle with clinical depression and bipolar disorder, the last thing I was about to do was call up my mom and tell her I had lost my marbles. So, what would any independent college student do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.. To put it lightly, I hated everything. Waking up was a pointless chore. Going to class was a waste of time. Hanging out with friends exhausted me. Praying and going to Mass was just an obligation I had to fulfill. If people invited me anywhere, I shot them down and locked myself in my room to watch Netflix alone. Nothing made me happy, even though my friends were trying their hardest. I was convinced that things would be infinitely better if I could just die. The emotional pain I was going through was worse than any physical pain I have ever felt. My life had turned into a vicious cycle of making myself do things I couldn't stand.

Finally during one of my visits home, my parents sat me down and voiced their concern. They knew I wasn't well, it was obvious. As much as I didn't want to do it, I broke down and talked to my doctor about how I had been feeling. Her diagnosis? Clinical depression. Her suggestion? Antidepressants. "Woah there, doc. I don't need to take some happy pill, I am just sad. I'm not depressed, I'm just... unmotivated." I met her medical advice with excuses, and denied the help that was being offered to me. I promised that I would start exercising and doing things that help motivate the mind and body.

Another month or so passed, and I (shockingly) didn't hold up with my solemn vow to "take better care of myself". I could barely get out of bed, I sure as heck wasn't going to do 30 minutes of cardio to help lift my spirits. My mom, bless her heart, wasn't going to put up with my empty promises. She could see the depression destroying me, and she was 3 hours away! Soon enough, I was home again and at another appointment with my doctor. THIS time, my mom was with me.. and I was put on an antidepressant. Nothing drastic, just something to help me get through the day. So I ventured back down to school, happy pills in hand. Things improved slightly from there, but day-to-day life was still really difficult for me. By the grace of God, I finished out the school year. I give God total credit here because I honestly have no idea how I made it through an entire year in the state that I was in. Finally I was home and I actually had the time to get my priorities straight and take better care of myself. I started counseling and exercising more than once a year (I really just hate being sweaty, okay?). I can say that, without a doubt, things have certainly gotten better for me. I'm not the happy-go-lucky person I used to be, and I probably will never be that girl again, but I am taking steps to finding joy in my life again. I'm learning how to differentiate between good and bad thinking habits, how to cope with things I can't control, and how to really love myself (flaws and all). Depression isn't something that has a definitive cure, but it is something, with the right support, tools, and medication, that can be controlled.

What does this have to do with you? 

Now you know a little bit of my story. I hope that it shed some light on what depression is like for someone who seems to be relatively normal. For those of you who don't struggle with depression, it's not something that you will ever really understand, and that's okay. If you have someone in your life who is struggling with depression, the best thing you can do is be supportive and loving. For me, sometimes I just need a hug or a reminder of how loved I am. The WORST thing you can do is place blame on someone with depression. "Maybe if you would cheer up for once.." NO. WOW. NO. DO NOT SAY THINGS LIKE THAT. If I could just "cheer up", trust me, I would. But what depression does is it takes away that bright outlook on life and twists your mind in a way that forces you to focus on everything that could go horribly wrong. Just like you wouldn't blame someone who was suffering from cancer, don't blame someone who is suffering from depression. Believe me when I say it's hard enough without someone making you feel guilty for "being so sad". It's not a lifestyle choice and it's not something I brought upon myself, it's an actual medical condition. Please don't treat it like it isn't real.

For those of you who are battling with depression or think that maybe you are, I want to encourage you to seek the help you need and DESERVE. I say that you deserve help because there is no reason anyone should be expected to handle this on their own. Talk to someone you trust, research counseling centers near you, make an appointment with your family doctor. This is a real thing and I promise there are well qualified people who are more than willing to help you. Don't wait around for it to get worse or until your mother forces you to see a doctor (thanks, mom). It's nothing to be ashamed of, because like I said, it's real and it is something that needs to be addressed before it takes over your life.

I don't know you. And I don't know what kind of life you're living. And I certainly don't know what kind of traumatic (or not so traumatic) life experiences you've had. But I do know this, you deserve to be happy. Not only that, but God wants you to be happy. Psalm 37:4 says, "Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart" and Psalm 138:8 says, "The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; Your steadfast love, o Lord, endures forever". His promise of love and fulfillment is something I cling to in my darkest days. Now, you may argue that if God wants us to be happy then why are there things like disease and death? And to be completely honest, I don't know. I'm pretty sure that NO ONE knows, but my best explanation for suffering is this; there is no resurrection without the Crucifixion. Sometimes we pray for healing, but God wants to give us a resurrection, and in order for that to happen, we have to die. (I'm not talking actual death here, I'm talking about emotional suffering or going through painful loss.) If we are to be happy and truly fulfilled with God, like He promises us, we have to be like Christ... and die. The most beautiful thing about Christ's death is that it didn't just end there. He defeated death and walked out of that tomb! Christ did this so that we can look to Him in our suffering and know that it doesn't end here. We are an Easter people! We do not just die, we have hope for eternal life! The tattoo I have on my left wrist in memory of my grandma is my reminder of this enduring hope... "We were therefore baptized into Christ's death, so just as Christ was risen by the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life." -Romans 6:4

I'm praying for you! Be His!

(Click here to watch an excellent video about the Catholic view on depression)