Topic: depression
Writing has saved my life more than once. It has allowed me the space and room to heal and to learn, and to also let go of the pain and hurt I may have clung to from my past. It doesn’t have to be New York Times worthy either—just something to help loosen the illness’ grip and get the clouds out of the way.
Running my own business and going to therapy are two things that my family never expected from me as a first-generation Ecuadorean-American.
My name is Michelle and I have Major Depressive Disorder. It’s severe and it’s recurrent. But I am not my depression, and my depression is not me. MDD is a part of my story, but it isn’t my identity.
My first run-in with depression was my first year after college. I was living in New York City and, at the time, I had no idea what depression was or how it could affect me.
I’m writing about this because the stigma surrounding mental illness, especially in Christian communities, keeps people locked in prisons of shame, refusing to admit that they need help.
I want you to understand this: If you are in the pits of depression, if you are suicidal, if any of the above spoke to you, depression is lying.
This letter is a reminder to the girl who wrote my suicide note. It is a reminder to myself: I am worth it, even when I don’t believe it. I am worth it.
"The ball drops and fireworks. Resolutions are made. People scream and people kiss and is it possible to change? Is it really truly possible to leave the past behind?"
We need to learn how to create elbow and knee pads for our mental health.
You call and wait to be connected, and after that minute or so wait, you speak to an elder Black woman, elder because you can hear the age and timbre of her experienced voice, and hear her breath while you cry and sob and weep in public...
With the new year approaching, we wanted to spend the month of December looking back on the top 8 blogs of 2017. This post was originally published on April 17, 2017.
It was devastating, in a single moment I felt that I had lost everything. Never in a million years would I have thought that I’d suffer from such a diagnosis.
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