I've had depression, officially, since I was 20. When my mom was sick, I had to skip classes to look after her, lost sleep, look after my father. By the time she was finally hospitalized and getting better...I was looking at having to repeat the college year, I was exhausted, and there was no one I could talk to. My college mates had ripped me a new one for one day retreating from business class to read a book because I just couldn't handle that day. Dumb of me, I know, but I'd spent weeks dealing with psychologists, police, driving my dad to work because he and I had both been up all night stopping her from escaping the house in her hallucinations...I was exhausted. By the time Mum had been hospitalized, I couldn't walk up the stairs to my attic bedroom without wanting to throw myself down and break my neck. My mind was torturing me, wanted me to drive my car into a tree, it knew exactly where...the day I was going to give in, and get into my car and drive there, for that sole intention...I wrote a note begging 'Help Me' and slid it under the door of my college counselor's office. She opened the door, and took me in, and I shattered and sobbed. I refused antidepressants from the doctor, I just needed someone to hear me because I was exhausted and had had to see my mother in a state of mind that no kid should ever see their mom in, I'd had to dig through a box of family photos to find a photo to hand to the policeman who had to search the streets for my mom the night she got out of the house and went wandering. I'd seen my dad in such a state of exhaustion from working his job and caring for Mum that I was terrified that he would fall asleep at the wheel and crash.
Once you've had that kind of depression...it always has you. Once that door is opened, it can never close. The worst thing was that no one except that counselor knew...a few times I tried to tell the people in my life. My dad blanked me out when I tried to tell him. I couldn't tell Mum, as she would've felt guilty. My sister...when facebook flashed a memory and it made me think of something from that time....I didn't say anything incriminating, but she told me to shut up and take the post down in case it threatened her job security, I'm not sure how it would have...my boyfriend...he was 'you should've told me it was that bad and I would have been there'....but then, all these years later, when I tried to open up that I was struggling, and how, he'd tell me that I'm just dwelling on things and making them worse for myself. It's not a place I choose to live in, but it's not a place I can leave either.