My visualization of depression.

When I think of depression, I think of a long corridor or hallway  with a bunch of doors off of it that connect to others. For me my depression started off in a long black hall, it probably started about 5 years ago when my grandma died. Has I grieved I found a door with lights on and a hall with lights on.

Then in June of 2011 I was raped and I also lost my god mother, so I felt like I got pulled through a door with dark hallway and then when she died another hallway that was even darker. I tried dating again not too long after and I admit it wasn't the best idea, but it was my choice and I thought that dark hallway would never end. I had to get rid of my dog I had at the time, he was suffering from separation anxiety and I couldn't handle it. I was working with some trainers who agreed a new home was the best idea, I felt like I failed. That hallway felt like it got darker.

At the end of that August I missed having a 4 legged creature, I spontaneously looked on the internet for a cat. I saw a little black face and knew I had to meet her, well she was already adopted, but her brother was in a cage ignoring everyone, that was until I came to the cage.This kitten who was ignoring everyone else just seemed to come out of his shell for me on the spot, I was in love, that little guy stole my heart and I found another door and that hallway had more light and I didn't feel so alone in it anymore. My little guy earned his name has Mowgli. On nights that I wasn't sleeping well I'd move out to the couch and he'd lay with me while I watched T.V. I swear he knew when I was having nightmares and flashbacks, he'd butt his heads against my hand and demand attention.

 Later that year in November I saw on facebook this post about a momma dog who was VERY pregnant and needing a foster, I have never felt so pulled to a dog. I got in touch with the contact at the Humane Society, was told she was due any day and needed out of her current foster. My roommate and I both just knew we had to take her. I was so nervous, I felt broken and like I had no right to another dog. Mowgli could mostly take care of himself and was independent, but it turns out I needed to be needed. That night I found another door, and it was so much brighter. I was in a hall with light and I felt hopeful. Lady and her 9 pups changed my world. When it came time to discuss where Lady would go after I found myself saying I was keeping her. She has been the light of my life.

When I met my boyfriend my PTSD settled and I didn't feel so on edge anymore, it was amazing, I was in control again and I felt amazing for the first time in so long. This man was willing to accept me for me and all that I am. For the first few months I was in shock and then I came to see that I could be whoever I wanted to be.

Our first winter came and I found my depression getting bad again, the dark hallway was coming back, I didn't know what to do. The next year wasn't so bad, I got things under control again once the weather came back around. Then we moved and it was so much stress. I was sliding back into darkness and I was scared, I didn't know how to communicate this to anyone.

I got the resources I needed and started counseling, then in April of 2014 my world was rocked and turned upside down. My dad had heart attack, spent 3 days in the hospital was sent home to recover and get better, instead on April 27 I woke up to a ton of missed calls and the news he was gone. I was yanked from a hallway that was lit like dawn and back to night, pitch dark and no end in sight. Losing a parent is something you can never be prepared for, this was a grief like I have never known, terrifying.

Now I'm in a hallway of dawn's light again, I know  I'm on the edge of changes and I know if I don't make them I'm not going to reach my potential. I am scared, but I am ready for them. I hope my story helps someone else see you can make it through this life, even with depression or PTSD, it's completely possible.

Why is it?

Let me preface this by saying this a post I've been thinking about for quite some time and has to do with the stigma attached to mental health issues.

Why is it, that a cancer patient gets empathy and sympathy, but a mental health patient gets pity and condescending? I have never and likely won't understand the stigma attached to mental health issues. It is an illness just like cancer, heart disease, Parkinson, arthritis, cystic fibrosis or any of those, but for some reason it has this ridiculous stigma attached to it, that takes so much effort and inner peace to overcome. I just don't understand why.

Why is there is this shame and stigma attached to my PTSD and depression? Why do those of us that suffer from mental health issues get told we're crazy or, my personal "favorite", "it's all in our head" and to "just get over it". All I can do is bite my tongue, roll my eyes and occasionally tell someone just how wrong they are. At the end of the day my depression is a chemical imbalance in my brain that needs to be treated or in some cases with the seasonal depression also a lack of vitamin D and sunlight. That all sounds clinical right? So why are people so quick to brush it off?

I am personally done with it, no more will I hide my issues or my story that is making me who I am. Would I have chosen this path for myself? Do I think my parents or siblings would have? No, but the fact of the matter is, it is MY PATH and all I can do from here is take charge and make myself a better person for it. Has someone who is a rape victim, this gives my attacker power that is not his right to have and he probably doesn't even know or care that he has it.

If you are reading this and feeling ashamed of something in your past, stop, it is so much easier said than done, I know and it is a process, and it's hard but it CAN be done.