More than 300 million people worldwide suffer from depression.
So many social media posts say, “You are not alone.” But when you are depressed, you feel alone. You feel as if you’re the only person in the world feeling these feelings. I have struggled with depression for a long time, but my lowest point was the night I drank a bottle of wine, took some Xanax pills, and called my little brother to tell him I was killing myself. Fortunately, he took my cry for help seriously. He drove from Alexander to my apartment in Little Rock, packed some bags for me, and took me to The Bridgeway in North Little Rock. It was there that I was diagnosed with bipolar II disorder. This diagnosis saved my life.
My psychiatrist prescribed bipolar medication that I take to this day. Even with the medication, most days it takes every ounce of will I have to get out of bed. Depression is a thief that steals your soul. It has caused me to lose interest in all the things I used to love. I tend to isolate myself from people, which has cost me many friends. I have to talk myself into the simplest of things, like leaving my apartment or taking a shower.
My wish is that someday people will stop stigmatizing mental health disorders and understand that they are no different from physical disorders that require daily medication, like diabetes or high blood pressure. Someday I hope that mental health will not be in a different category from physical health. I’m not sure I’m a warrior, but I am a survivor. Every day is a new battle.