It's been 163 days that I don't write. At every sunrise a new pencil mark is added to the wall by my bed. Depression has killed my passion. And it had almost killed me.

When I was 9, I climbed up a hill near my grandmother's house. It was 11 days after my parents got the divorce. I was afraid to fall down, but I didn't move. Somewhere inside me I still wish I had. From that moment on I realized I was suffering. I was not going to throw myself off the top of that hill, but I was praying that someone would come and push me down.

When I was 13, I picked up the habit of walking back home from school always very near the curb, but never on it. I was wishing I would trip over my feet at the exact moment a car was passing by very close to my body but not paying attention enough to miss me.

When I was 15, I started taking the bus to practice. At every stop, I wish a robber would walk in and demand everyone's possessions. I was going to react and he would stab me. I had every move calculated. I was so ready for it.

When I was 17, I started kneeling down to pray at church only to ask God to take me. I didn't want to live anymore, so why did I have to?

You see, my depression never made me want to kill myself. I wanted to die, but I didn't want to be the responsible for my own death.

My depression doesn't want my dead body. She just wants to kill my love for everything that makes me fulfilled.

It's been 163 days that I don't write.

You see, I have learned - almost like you learn how to ride a bike - to use my depression against herself.

When I was 18, I started writing not to vent anymore, but to heal, and now every single word I put on a paper feels like a scream. There are days I write for hours and hours only stopping to lay down and cry a little harder.

And there are days not a single word will come out. That's when I know depression has hit me harder.

I will never forget the moments I was able to turn my depression into art, even if it was only for a few minutes a day.

Knowing I could do that was what saved my life.

It's been 163 days that I don't write. Depression has killed my passion.

I started drinking more than I'm used to. I started getting sick more than usual.

I've been trying to get up of bed, but I can't seem to find a reason why or a hand to put me up.

It's been 163 days that I don't write, and I don't feel like myself anymore.

You see, this type of depression is tricky. It's making me believe if it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be who I am today. It's making me believe I wouldn't know how to turn my brokenness into growth or wouldn't feel the obligation to put together any shattered pieces of my heart.

I woke up at 3 a.m. today. I grabbed my favorite movie out of the shelf. I watched it twice before I got up and went for a walk around the neighborhood. You see, there are days that I still wish something bad would happen to me, but most days, like today, I really just wanna live.

For 163 days I didn't write. I couldn't. I tried, I failed. Depression got me hard this time around. Like it had done a couple years ago; like it will another day sooner than I wish. But today, after 163 days trying, I got up. I reminded myself once more that I am so much more than my mental illness. And this time I actually listened.

You see, depression is bipolar. One day wants to eat you out. The other just wants to let you be. I understand her now, and because of that I know there will be days she will win. But I also know that I won't ever stop fighting back.

Depression will attack each person in a totally different way. You need to know her very well, you need to study every move she makes on you to know how to deal with it in a way that works for yourself.

There is not a magical formula and there won't ever be one. What you can build is a support system that will change the way you deal with your own mental disorder.

You see, depression is just like the seed of a giant tree. It will die with you, but you can stop it from growing while you're still alive.

For more information on suicide prevention, head over to the International Association for Suicide Prevention (IASP) or the World Suicide Prevention Day official website.

National Suicide Prevention
Hotline: 1-800-273-8255