It’s 2:15 a.m. and I’m sitting here sad, nauseous and confused... But not for the first time in my life. It’s just another day.

But not the normal kind of sad. Not the kind you get after a breakup. Not the kind you get when you leave home for college. Not the kind you feel after a pet dies.

Real sadness: Depression.

I honestly don’t know why I’m writing this now, but when God tells you to move, you do it. No questions asked. It’s not an easy topic and it isn’t something I even know how to talk about.

My life thus far has been great. I have an amazing family, the best of friends, a dog who I cherish more than chicken nuggets and my relationship with God was always steady. Were there cracks and roadblocks in the way of all the great things in my life? More than you could imagine. But one day I realized that none of it mattered anymore. I had all these great things in my life, but I was still so sad. I was coping.

But then it got worse.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t function. I began drinking and drinking way too much. My weight went through the roof. I shut everyone important out. I turned my back on God. I didn’t feel anything.

This is coming from the girl who had too many friends to count. This is coming from the girl whose parents supported her every decision, wrong or right. This is coming from the girl who was blessed too many times to count, even when she didn’t deserve it… not even the slightest bit.

This is coming from a girl who had everything... And still something was off.

I don’t know when it began. I had never been happier than when I finally got to come to college. I was ‘high on life’ as some would say. I joined a sorority and gained so many new best friends who lift me up. My parents mended their broken relationship. I rekindled a friendship that had fallen through the cracks in high school. I was on fire for God and that’s what my life revolved around.

But then one day, I just stopped being happy. I stopped appreciating these things. I spoke to a counselor and had my worst fear confirmed. I knew it was bad when I woke up in the mornings and the only thing I looked forward to was going back to bed.

But here’s the thing.

Depression isn’t always at 3 a.m.

Sometimes it’s at 3 p.m. when you’re with friends and you’re half way through a laugh and suddenly stop. It isn’t always crying your make up off in the shower or playing sad songs in bed. Sometimes it is wanting to be isolated and other times desperately needing to be around people. Sometimes it’s having no appetite even though you haven’t eaten in days and other times it is eating everything in your fridge. It isn’t always wanting to die. Sometimes it’s just wanting to disappear until you feel okay again. Depression is the frustrating feeling of desperately wanting to enjoy everything and wanting to be normal for once. It’s hiding things from the people you love because you don’t want them to look at you like you’re broken. It’s lonely, frustrating and exhausting as hell.

But I’m here today as someone who lives with depression. Someone who wakes up every day and decides to make herself happy. Someone who doesn’t allow life’s circumstances to determine how I feel. Someone who wakes up every day knowing that I can’t escape depression, but I sure can kick the bitch in the throat.

And I’m here to tell you... you WILL make it. You WILL survive it.

But do not shut out the people who love you the most. Do not hide the one thing that is tearing you apart. Do not for one second believe that your life is not worth it.

Because it is. Your life is so valuable.

You ARE enough. 1,000 times enough.