My Depression Diagnosis: Childhood and Teen Depression

For as long as I can remember, I've felt sad and defective. So when did I realize that I needed help? I didn't always know I had depression. I actually didn't have a clue what it was until after my doctor gave me my depression diagnosis.

My Road to Depression

Between the ages of nine and fourteen, three members of my extended family died of cancer: my grandfather and two aunts. My parents, my sister, and I all took the deaths very hard. We'd watched each person die without being able to save them. Then my mom showed early stages of cancer and had to have major surgery to save her life.

Even after my mom got better and our family life went back to normal, I still felt sad most of the time. I felt really hopeless about life and dwelled on the fact that we would all die eventually. I started to want to die. It seemed a lot easier than being alive for so much suffering.

As school pressure intensified in the tenth grade, I felt myself break down. I hid in bathrooms, pushing back tears so no one could tell how overwhelmed I felt. I wrote in my journal about feeling like I had tar in my veins because my body felt so heavy and dark. Each day I'd literally pray for the strength to get out of bed and get ready for school. I listened to only sad music because it was all I could relate to. I started to get really angry at my peers at school for seeming to be so happy. Why couldn't I be like them?

Getting Depression Help

After I started to self-injure to cope with my feelings, I realized that I needed help. I reached out to a guidance counselor from elementary school and she contacted my high school's psychologist. The school psychologist was really kind to me, and helped me talk with my parents about how I'd been feeling.

At first, I was ashamed tell my parents know how bad I felt because I knew they loved me a lot and really wanted me to be happy. Only after talking with them, however, did I learn that depression runs in our family and that there were depression treatment options that could help me. My mom went with me to see our family doctor and she prescribed me an antidepressant. We also found a psychologist for me to talk to.

I went to the library and signed out books on depression. I read everything I could, both fiction and non-fiction, and started to feel less alone in my despair. I learned that depression isn't my fault; it's an illness.

It's been a long battle but I'm so thankful to have made it this far. I know I can keep getting better with support from those around me.

A Depression Diagnosis Can Help You!

If you ever feel like you can't cope with how you're feeling, I really recommend reaching out to a friend or family member for support. You might feel scared at first, but that's okay! Talk to someone anyway. It's only through talking about our pain that we can get help with it. And we can't get better alone.

If it's too frightening to think about talking with someone about your feelings, try writing them a letter instead. You will feel a lot of relief even just getting your feelings down on paper.

Do you have any tips on reaching out for help? Feel free to comment with your experiences and you might help someone else start their journey to recovery.

You can also find Erin Schulthies on Twitter, on Google+, on Facebook and on her blog, Daisies and Bruises.