My life after depression

College, as you know if you’ve been, can be a helluva time. Allegedly some of the best years of your life. Which, you know, I won’t say is completely untrue. I had some amazing times in college. I don’t think I’ve grown more as an individual than I did there.

College is so much better than high school in every way imaginable. You get away from the small-minded losers of your hometown, who don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground. Sorry, was that too aggressive? Anyway, you’re exposed (most of the time) to well-educated, smart, creative, quirky teachers as well as other people (some of which are your age) who are just as lost as you are.

I don’t know if I have always been depressed, which is likely OR if the pressures and adaptation to college really brought out the depression in me. Because while I truly had some amazing experiences there, I also had many experiences with crushing sadness, anxiety and apathy. Maybe that’s normal for college students? Because more often than not, nearly every other person I came across was having similar issues. If I could compare us to anything, I’d say it’s like those kids who terrorize neighborhoods by smashing people’s mailboxes with a bat, only problem is, we are the mailbox. Tragic.

I would literally wake up and not want to get out of bed. Not want to go to class. Not want to go to work or see my friends or do anything really except lay in bed and just…feel sad. Which sounds pitiful, but I really couldn’t help it. It was like one of those Chinese finger traps, the more you fight it, the more you get stuck.

And then came Lisa, the Caped Crusader, except the cape is a white doctor’s coat and her super powers are her ears, her advice and her prescription pad. At first, I didn’t think therapy was that helpful. Not that I don’t think therapy isn’t helpful for people, because it damn sure is. I guess I wasn’t feeling as though it was that helpful because I’d just walk in the room and immediately start crying my eyes out and stay that way until it was time to leave. And I did that until I decided I had no reason to be afraid of telling her what was really on my mind, I mean she couldn’t go and tell anyone else what I said. She literally can’t, patient confidentiality. She wasn’t judging me, she wasn’t telling me I was dumb or overreacting or a drama queen. She was validating what I was feeling, and I don’t know that any other adult in my life had actually done that before then. Sometimes you just need someone to take all that chaos jumbled up in your head and separate it into different compartments, to where it makes sense.

I told her everything that bothered me, I told her the roots of why I was the way I was, why I thought the way I did and why I acted and reacted to certain things in certain ways. I mean, I had to tell someone. And what she did, was put things in perspective, validated me, didn’t make me feel like a fucking loser or an attention seeker. And if you don’t know, sometimes just getting an objective opinion with some solid advice can make you feel like some weight is lifted off your shoulders. I’m not saying this is how it works for everyone by any means. I know for some, depression can be much worse than I’ve had it. People die from this and it’s not something I take lightly. Talking about it something I encourage and do my best to normalize.

A little over a year has passed since I started going back to therapy and gotten on an antidepressant that works for me. Life is not perfect. But I’ll tell you this, it is way better than it was. Coming out of a bad depression is like finally driving out of really bad fog. Your head isn’t clouded anymore, you can finally see straight after not being able to for so long.

I began investing in myself. I started doing so many things that I would have never had the desire to do before. I started to appreciate and love myself. I’ve found so many passions. I’ve allowed myself to be more open. I’ve gained the capacity to let another person close to me and (PLOT TWIST) allowed myself to be vulnerable in front of them. Which is weird and definitely an adjustment, but it’s one that I’m willing to make.

It’s very weird to start slowly introducing all these things into my life that I never allowed myself to do before. For instance, I started pole dancing again. Disclaimer: I’m trash lol. But when I pick these big ole yams up on that pole and spin or I climb the pole and can hold myself up there, I feel so powerful. I feel so confident. I'm far from where I want it to be, but I’m slowly working my way there. But I’ll be damned if things aren’t good. I’m constantly learning. I’m constantly being loved. Constantly yeetin that negative energy up outta my life.

There are just so many ways in which my life has drastically changed from where I was a year ago, which is when I initially started healing. And it definitely has changed since 18 months ago, which is the beginning of my last semester of college.

Usually change frightens me, as I’m sure it does most of us. But if you can’t adjust to change, you’ll never grow, you’ll stay in the same place forever. So in this case, I’m so grateful for the change and growth that I’ve seen in my life and in myself. God fucking bless.