What It Is Like To Live With Depression

Depression is not just a mood. It is a mental illness that challenges a person's daily living. At the same time it does not define us.



Video recorded 07/06/2017


I am not sure what motivated me to create this video above back in 2017. As mentioned I hoped that one day I could look back at this video and use it as my testimony to help others. In the midst of another depressive episode I had some level of hindsight to be writing about it years later. At that point of my life depression was no stranger to me. It seemed as though I could never catch a break. I would go two to three months doing well before depression popped up like Rodger from Sister Sister. I became the friend that could be “too much” to handle when it came to those closest to me. To the rest of the public I was living this amazing and vibrant life. With the right photos you can have you dream life on social media. Now in life you have functioning drug addicts like some potheads and then you have people like me who may be considered a functioning depressed person. “Check on your strong friends” always becomes trendy after a reported suicide or the world experiencing grief all at the same time. I challenge you to check on all your friends because strength is subjective and shown in different ways. Everyone has their limits. Let me share mines.


"I challenge you to check on all your friends because strength is subjective and shown in different ways."

My first depression onset started in the end of 11th grade all the way through to my senior year. I was not a fighter and had never been in a fight. The day I became depressed I was the physical target of a relative’s anger. I had seen their level of anger before but this time it was directed to me. It was the type of anger that makes you so fearful you freeze in place because you do not know what will happen but you know it is not going to be good. Just as I anticipated things went very left very fast. That night resulted in me having a black eye, broken blood vessels in my eye, broken eye glasses, and endless questions and students staring at me as I walked through the school hallways. That Monday when we returned to school I remember entering my computer class with Ms. Claire. Anyone who knew Ms. Claire knew that her picture was next to the definition of mean and annoying. Therefore, there was no surprise that before I could even walk into her class, she stopped me with her face twisted up asking “What happened to you?” Her tone didn’t mimic a concerned adult but a nosy person trying to instigate an incident. I don’t remember what I told her but I knew it was far from the truth. It had to be because I was a minor and my black eye was enough cause for child protective services to get involved. At 15 I experienced hate, anger, embarrassment, betrayal, fear, distraught, and much more all at once. I would go back and forth between being angry at him for doing such a horrible thing and then get mad that I did not try to defend myself. Whether he knew it or not back th