Personal Reflective Essay: The Real Depression

“All teenagers feel that way.” “You’re just over exaggerating your sadness.” “Stop being such a drama queen.” Seventh grade is when the sadness started. A month passed. Two. Eventually, feeling “down” became the new normal. Horrible thoughts of dying and self mutilation flooded my brain on a constant basis. But everyone feels that way... or so I was told. My friendships crashed and burned because I lost motivation to work on them. I was an outsider at school, with my friends, with my family, and even with myself. As time went on, and every day I would see the smiling happy faces of all my friends, I realized that this mindset is not normal. I realized how real depression is and that something needed to change. I was mentally ill.

When I was dealing with this, my sister was as well. My sister was admitted into a psychiatric hospital for a week due to depression and I heard about the judgements, the cost, and the reality of psychiatric hospitals so I became sneakier. I hid the scars better. I would stay in my room so no one would notice my emotions. I would eat less and less hoping to disappear from the world. It's safe to say that didn’t work out well. When attempting to speak to my parents in the past about my
I see college as an opportunity to spread this message beyond my small town. Being mentally ill is nothing to be ashamed of and no one is ever alone. I will be that smiling face, the open ears, and the advice giver to anyone in need. Suicide rates are incredibly high because people feel as though no one cares. Hopefully by spreading what I have learned about being mentally ill, I can lower that, even if just by a little. Learning how to deal with my own mental health made me more conscious of other people’s feeling and take into account my own actions. If help is needed, you will find me on the front lines fighting for the happiness that everyone