For a few years, I’ve been struggling with depression. It was a long process for me to even come to terms with the reality that I truly was depressed. I thought admitting my condition, seeking help through counseling and going on antidepressants meant I was weak and crazy. Honestly, some days I really do feel like I’m losing my mind.

I always used to look forward to coming home from college, but this time around, I was dreading it. Being away for so long means that I’ve gotten close to a lot of people at school, but with every semester that passes, my friends back home seem to drift farther from me. This time when I came home, I was not greeted with lots of plans and friends asking to hang out, and quite frankly, I’ve been incredibly lonely.

This loneliness has been really frustrating for me because it’s made me sink back into my depression. I’d been doing really well – I was even off my medication, so having to get back on it made me feel like a failure.

Living with depression is such a struggle because while there are good days, the bad days suck, and people aren’t always understanding. Friends and family struggle to understand why I don’t want to leave my room, why I’m so tired when I “don’t do anything,” and when I try to reach out for help, I’m met with rejection.

Some days, even getting out of bed is hard, so forcing myself to face the world isn’t always the easiest thing. And while there may be no physical reason for my tiredness, every day I’m battling inside my head. Honestly, it can get really loud in there, and it’s hard to explain without people thinking I’m losing my mind.

This constant mental fighting leaves me emotionally drained and coupled with my insomnia – it’s no wonder I’m so tired. Depression is like the entire world has been drenched in grey paint or like eating food with the texture and flavor of chalk. It’s bland and empty and isolated. I get easily irritated, and sometimes I don’t even understand why.

Lately I’ve struggled with myself and the idea of asking for help. It’s hard to reach out when I feel people won’t understand. I’m so tired of asking for help and being told that I’m being “selfish,” “manipulative,” “overdramatic” or simply “doing it for attention.” It seems people don’t always understand the courage I have to muster to ask for their help and how much worse it gets when I’m met with these replies.

There are days when my depression is dormant and a pop of color begins to invade my grey world. Not every day is going to be that way. Some days I just need to feel sad and angry, and all I ask is for patience while I get myself out of this dark hole.

Medication and counseling help, but there’s no cure. I can learn to control it and live with it, but my depression will always be a part of me. I can’t just “get over it” or “take a pill.” There’s no magic cure. All I ask is that people try to be more understanding – try to be that pop of color in my grey days.