I grew up in a fairly happy household. We didn't have many issues. There were no money issues as far as I knew. I could ask for things and not be told that we couldn't afford it. I experienced many things because we moved a lot. I knew my parents loved me. I knew that there really, honestly, wasn't anything wrong with my life.

But from the age of 13 on, I wasn't happy. I felt empty sometimes. I stopped being able to enjoy things as much as usual. I went days without being moved to do anything. There were days where I went strictly on autopilot. My self-image and my confidence were practically shot to hell. I struggled to be happy. There were days where I felt so bad that self-harm was the only way I managed to feel anything. I felt alone.

By the time I was 16, I had started looking up why I felt this way. I figured that maybe this wasn't normal because most people around me didn't seem to feel the same way. Or maybe they did, but we all felt so alone that there was no talking about it. I did talk to a few people, mainly my boyfriend. But I heard a lot of "It's just in your head, get over it."

And that's the thing. It is in my head. There's no escaping this feeling. There's no getting over it because it's always there.

And then I told my parents. I remember quite vividly how that conversation went. My mom was driving and my dad was sitting in the passenger seat. We were on the way back from my aunt's. And I said, "I think I have depression." My mom said nothing. My dad asked, "What do you have to be depressed about?"

I told him that there really was no reason. But it was still there. It was still how I felt. And then my mom told me that I was just being a 16-year-old and that I would be fine. And just like that, it was dismissed. It was instantly invalidated and we continued the drive home, but with slightly louder music.

I brought it up again. My dad and I were at the doctor and I detailed everything that I felt: messed up sleeping and eating patterns, anger, emptiness, restlessness, struggling to sleep, and my low self-image. Let me explain what self-image is first: it's how you feel about yourself as a whole. It's more than body image. Those feelings of being worthless and stupid and unimportant? All self-image. But my doctor heard that and immediately laughed.

He told me that I was 17 years old and that all of that was normal. That in a few years I would be just fine. Essentially, he told me that how I felt was not valid. Then he prescribed me a sleeping pill. I haven't been to the doctor since. I haven't taken any steps to help myself. Because I'm worried I'm going to be laughed at and told to get over it. I've heard it from three adults that were supposed to help me. I've heard it from those I love that it's just a mind thing that I can talk myself out of.

That's not okay.

Depression isn't a fad. It's not something that occurs only to those between the ages of 13 and 18 and then they'll suddenly be a member of society with no issues. It can happen to anyone and it's awful.

To every person in my life who's told me to get over, I want you to know that I have tried. I have tried and tried. But the fact is that at the end of the day when there is no one there, I cry. I cry because I feel unimportant. I feel worthless. I feel that I will never amount to anything and should not have been born because why am I here? I feel that there is no one who could love me. Who could honestly care about me when I can barely do so for myself?

And you're part of the reason. You've told me, time and again, that how I feel isn't important. That it's not worth a minute out of your day to listen to me. To understand that I didn't choose this. To understand that maybe I need more than going to the gym and drinking water to feel better.

Next time someone who loves you and depends on you tells you how they feel, especially about something so serious, listen to them. Don't ask them why they feel this way. Don't tell them they have no reason to be depressed. Don't assume that they're just being a teenager. Help them. Listen to them.

Keep them from becoming someone who can't reach out for help or believe and trust that someone actually loves them.