In "Grey's Anatomy" Meredith and Christina called their dark times the "dark and twisties," and whenever one was in that place, they both were. Eventually they just got out of it. It took some time and a little bit of reassurance that they weren't alone, that they have each other, and they got out of it. The scary thing about having depression is that sometimes those dark times don't end they just get less extreme. Then sometimes, when it's really bad, you get to the pitch black darkness and feel like you can't tell anyone because you'll scare them. You wouldn't ever harm yourself or others but sometimes it seems like the only way out. This is when someone comes along or something happens and you see the candle light. It's so warm and bright. So you walk to the gray part of the tunnel and then suddenly you're alone again and the candle blew out. You scream "is anyone there?" and get no response. Tears start rolling down your face and your heart starts to beat faster and faster by the second trying to relight that candle. Maybe you find a match and it's warm and you have light again but sometimes you don't and you're stuck waiting for someone or something to come along in this tunnel you're in.

I was asked one time "on a scale of one to ten how bad is it?" At that time I said I was at an eight. Overtime that scale changes because sometimes you think you're at your worst, that you're at a ten, but later down the road you get back to that scale and see the last time was more like a seven because right now, you're at a ten. You can't possibly measure the darkness in a room because once it's dark, it's dark. So why can we measure our pain on a scale? Especially when it's not just in one place. I remember when I sprained my wrist I was asked the same question; "on a scale of one to ten how bad does it hurt?" I broke my wrist not too long before this, I compared my pain to that and said about a seven. Sometimes I find myself wishing I had a broken leg or wound so then people would see that my pain is still there. We as people seem to forget that mental illnesses and emotional/psychological pain is present in our everyday lives. Just because it's not physically there we forget. If we had a monster following us around then maybe people would take it more seriously. What if we had a person following us, like a stalker, would people worry then? What about a sign on our forehead that says "I feel unwanted and I don't want to be here anymore." would people sit you down and tell you how loved you are? What if our skin was the color of our mood, yellow for happy, blue for sad, black for depressed, purple for loved, etc. Would people be more cautious to what they did or say around you?

What do you do when no one around you sees who you really are? That you aren't this constant smiley, bubbly, happy person. That when you're alone you can't stop crying because it hurts so bad. Those times are when it's hardest to talk about what's going on. That's when the monster comes out to play. When Meredith gave up swimming after she was pushed in the freezing water was when people saw how deep she was in the dark and twisty tunnel. Why does it have to get to that point for people to tell you how much they love and appreciate you? Why can't we as people tell others that all the time? Every time one of the characters in "Greys Anatomy" isolates themselves one by one they all go to that person to tell them how they are not alone and help to fix what has happened. The thing is this is real life, this is not a TV show where all is right in the end.

We all reach our breaking points and sometimes it's gets harder and harder to repair what has broken. The worst thing about it is that it takes time to heal. It's funny how when we were little if we fell down all we needed was a kiss to make it better. Growing up with depression has been the biggest battle I have ever fought that I continue to fight. I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy. Some days are better than others but when it's bad, it gets really bad. Sometimes I want to just give up but I think about the one thing that makes me feel calm and loved; my dog. Who would play with her and buy her treats and new toys? Who would love her to extent that I do? As cheesy as it sounds, she keeps me looking for that match in the dark tunnel.