It all starts with one thing. My first semester in college it started with a boy (as most depressing things typically do). That time I found someone to comfort me through it but knew it wasn’t yet out of my system. The next semester it was back in full effect. I couldn’t get out of bed, didn't want to eat or even shower at times, cried about everything and didn’t know how to reach out. However, I knew if I didn’t reach out to somebody, this darkness would consume my life. So, I did the smartest thing I knew how to do: pour my heart out to a complete stranger. But this wasn’t just any complete stranger (because I’m a little bit smarter than that), this was a counselor in the Counseling and Testing Center on campus.

Now, I’m not going to lie. I didn’t think this would help AT ALL. Most times going on campus for any kind of help is pointless and only makes you more upset. But I knew if I didn’t talk to someone I would do something I was going to regret and that’s not even me.

It was in that counselor's office with that complete stranger that I had my aha moment. After talking to me for a little while she said the magic words that freed me from my demons: “You have clinical depression”.

Now I know what you're thinking. How did this help? At first, I didn't understand either what made me so happy about my diagnosis. However, I realized that it helped me see that it wasn't all me and at the same time, it was. I wasn't responsible for the way depression made me feel, however, I was responsible for how I reacted to being depressed. In that moment I realized that I owe it to myself to kick depression’s butt and be a functional, CONTENT member of society. I may not always be happy, but I can always strive for contentment.

This is my story, one of 350 million worldwide, most of which don’t even know, because the world tells them things like “people have it way worse than you”, “stop complaining” or “just be happy”, not realizing how actually hard that can be for someone with depression. Growing up I didn’t even believe in depression because of this. However, I now recognize it for the silent killer it can be. Most people also think depression is for people who are sad or non-religious. These are also very untrue. Personally, I believe myself to be one of the happiest, goofiest people I know and my religion is Roman Catholic. But depression doesn't care about that. God could be blessing me all day, but when I'm feeling down even breathing feels like a curse.

So what's the not-so-depressing part about all this? That you have something to fight through. When you complete it, even though you hysterically cried all the way through, you did it. And it's done.

There will always be something that needs to be done. There will always be depression, however, there will also always be people who love you, reasons to succeed, and ways to surprise yourself. I believe that is something to smile about.