Depression doesn’t always hit you like a sack of bricks or a giant wave, dragging you under to a place where air doesn’t seem to exist. Sometimes it comes on slowly, barely noticeable in all the rush and routine of daily life. And then, at the most unexpected moment it rears its head, with poison in its eyes.

I read a prompt the other day that stated, “write about the day you knew you were truly alone in the world”, and it made me think back to my junior year in high school. I went to a boarding school in the outskirts of Loveland, Colorado. It was small, with only 25 kids in my class, so the atmosphere provided a very close-relationship kind of feel for everyone on the campus. This close-knit environment may have been the first significant welcome to my growing depression, for you see, even in a small school where friends could easily be made, I only managed to have one or two really close friends. Never have I been a very extroverted person, so truthfully this didn’t seem to be a problem for me, however the fact that as the strange feelings of worthlessness blossomed in my heart, those friends wavered when I needed them most. A light fog settled over my heart, and while there were no crushing feelings yet, life seemed to be a bit dimmer.

Time passed and I managed to maintain a healthy composure, all the while wondering why I wasn’t as happy as I used to be. No real problems had yet to occur in my small bubble of space, and so, nagging thoughts as to “what was wrong with me” ate away at the back of my mind. The darkness stayed away however, until the day when the boy who held my heart at the time decided to break it without apology or explanation. I have never felt more lost in my life as the pressure in my chest bubbled out as screams, all care thrown to the wind as the darkness that had lurked in the recesses burst forward and engulfed me. My few friends tried to console me, and their gentle words and hands were the only thing that kept my mind from completely slipping into a shadow that offered no return.

All those feelings that I had hidden, the sadness and doubts as to whether or not something was wrong with me crushed the breath from my lungs, and it took all that I had to make it back to my dorm room; only then to lay in my friend’s arms, completely numb, and uncaring if I were to fall asleep and never open my eyes again. Needless to say, my depression was not only brought on from that situation, it was fed into a roaring beast from the lurking monster it had been for so long. Days, weeks, months went by and still my heart was heavy. I could go to class, I could speak to others, and I could smile sometimes; There was no light within my smile. My mouth did the action, but my heart remained numb. I wanted nothing of counseling, to try and speak of my problem would have taken more energy than I wished to summon; and honestly, I had grown accustomed to crying myself to a deep, dreamless, sleep as I wished for nothing but peace from the strange empty pain.

After gentle coaxing from my mother, and encouragement from my friends, I found the strength to seek help. I found out there was nothing wrong with me, I had done nothing wrong to bring such pain into my life. I suffered from severe depression, something that had run in my family for generations. The doctors were amazed that I had even been able to pass my classes, because severe depression typically zaps all motivation from the ones it affects. Honestly, to this day I am surprised that I functioned as well as I did in that state. I had no will to live, nothing to work for, and the pain consumed me in a way that I thought only existed in books; torture fit for a criminal of the highest standing. Yet, my faith and the love of those who supported me at my worst helped me to fight the darkness. They were my miracle light in a world where not a single thing, meant anything.

Today, as I look back at that time, as I still see myself struggle from time to time with thoughts that could take me down that darker path, I remember that relief can be attained. It can be achieved by anyone who is willing to simply reach out a weak hand and say, "Please help me, I can’t go on any longer." I want to encourage anyone that may be feeling the weight of depression, to not feel alone. Keep fighting the darkness back with all the strength that you can muster, and even if that strength is not enough, know there can always be someone somewhere that can help carry you through.

And so, with the words from one of my favorite poems I encourage you “Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage, against the dying of the light”(1).