Mental health isn't talked about enough, and when it is, it's mostly focused on major depression, mild depression, and terrible anxiety. Well, there's more than just two kinds of depression. Me? I have what's called dysthymia, or high-functioning depression.

This means I can go about my daily routine, and you may never see any sort of symptom that would lead you to believe I'm depressed. But, I am. I can get up every morning and brush my teeth, do my hair, and go to work like I do every single day. And for the longest time, I believed that I was just meant to feel this way all the time; like that's how I was born.

For as long I can remember, I've never actually been "happy." Now, our definitions of happiness will undoubtedly be different. Happiness for me would just be being able to wake up and look forward to the day. But unfortunately, that's not the case for me. Most of you probably don't understand the difference between major depression and dysthymia, so let me break it down for you.

Major depression and dysthymia differ in severity and lifetime. Major depression is a severe episode of depression lasting at least two weeks, but less than six months. Dysthymia is when a person is moderately/severely depressed for a period of two years or longer.

Living with high-functioning depression is hard. And the hardest part about it is that not many people, if any at all, can physically see that you're struggling.

I finally told my parents that I was depressed when I was a freshman in college. It got so bad that I actually didn't want to live anymore. Though I never attempted anything, I believe that in time, I would have had I not gotten any help. The moment I told my parents that I needed help, they got me help. The very next day, my mom was on the phone with psychiatrists and my dad was on the phone with insurance. Because let's be real, mental health costs way more than it should.

Throughout the next year and a half, I was on and off six different medications and had three different diagnoses. Almost four years later, I've been on a combination of two antidepressants for about a year and a half. I've been doing better, but I still have my relapses.

I've spent the last few years living in shame of my "illness," and only a few people close to me know what's going on. My family and close friends help me through it. But today, I'm tired of being ashamed. Today, I'm tired of hiding from it. And today, I'm tired of being told that it's all in my head. Because it's not. Depression is very real, and more people need to talk about it. I just want everyone to know that it's OK. It does get better. It's not just a cliche statement. Life goes on, life gets better, and it's OK to not be OK. Somebody cares.