It took me a while to figure out what i was feeling. I didn’t understand there was a name for it let alone a technical “diagnosis” from a doctor. Where I come from, small town USA in the heart of farmville Ohio, depression, bipolar, or ANY mental illness is something that just is not discussed. And for that reason, I stayed quiet. Staying quiet nearly killed me, twice.
At family gatherings there would easily be 50 of us all hanging out, the adults drinking and us kids hanging around. I was always the life of the party. I was the one to ensure everyone felt at home, laughed, and just enjoyed themselves. I would be at a party with my parents for five hours on any given day with nothing but a smile on my face until we would come home. I would dive into my bed, bury my head under my pillow and cry. Why was I so upset? I had a roof over my head, a big loving family, and food to eat. Why won’t the tears stop? Someone knocks…”I’m just listening to music I’ll be out there in a minute”. I would check my eyes in the mirror, paint that smile back on and head out of my room where I would start the happy cycle all over.
Now there were some reasons I knew I was upset over such as having my parents go through a divorce, seeing my mother or father with a different partner, having an alcoholic parent, and in high school after one year I began to not care. This led me to get denied to all popular colleges in our area. Seeing my classmates from high school now graduating from college or some even getting married hurt. Bad. But it was all my fault, right? That would begin the pity party and led me deeper and deeper into the depression. It was my fault I gave up on school and didn’t care, It’s my fault I’m not in a good college.