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Depression

Struggles

By Sandra ReynoldsPublished 6 years ago 4 min read
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It began at 12. My life was never extraordinary. I was just a simple southern girl who lived in a bad situation. At twelve I realized I wasn’t like most girls. That’s because I liked most girls. Once I came out to my family it was like the devil had made his appearance in our home. My grandmother and father disowned me along with a few other family members. My dad being a drunk told one of his customers who had a child in my class and she started my bullying. She told the whole school about me liking girls. They all started pushing me and calling me names. That is when I started my cutting. By the time I entered eighth grade I was already a regular cutting. Then I got sent off to get help. Let me tell you. The “help” was a joke. They just gave you medicine and picked fun at you when they would leave your room. Nothing truly helped until I got home and started writing. I would use my depression and schizophrenia to help me make up intriguing stories and share them with my friends. The older I got the stranger the stories got. Then one day I stopped writing. I met someone who instantly sparked my soul. We started dating and then, like any young couple, we started other things. I felt cured of my depression. Until I got my annual visit to the doctor. She confirmed that I wouldn’t be able to have kids. My depression came storming back in with its bags packed and a new things with it. How was I going to tell my man? Would he still want a woman who can’t bare children? Would he leave? All these questions and no one to help me ask them. He noticed my mood changes and noticed I had quit putting effort into everything. I saw what my depression was causing and was going to end it that night. When we got back from a family outing; I had a speech prepared and everything. Turns out he had a speech ready too. He sat me on our bed and began rambling about how he noticed changes. I went to interrupt him and he got down on one knee and proposed. I was at a loss for words. Before I gave him an answer, I told him what the doctor had told me. His response? “That’s fine. There are several children needing a good home. We could always adopt a child.” Right then I knew I wanted to marry this man. I know, I know. This sounds all fairy tale like. But this is my real life. My struggles with depression have brought me terrible luck but also something amazing came out of it all. I married my best friend two years after he proposed to me. Then five months after we had married, I found out we were pregnant. As a girl who once thought she would never make it to where she is today because her depression was getting the best of her I can honestly say, I’m proud of my depression. It’s had it’s bad days, but without it, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today. Depression isn’t a nice thing but what if I wouldn’t have went off and got the help I needed? Then I wouldn’t have met my husband when I came back home. I wouldn’t have graduated high school. I wouldn’t be married to the man I love. I wouldn’t be watching he and our three year old daughter cuddle as I type this. I wouldn’t be happy today. Depression is an awful thing, but if you find your own ways to deal with it, and conquer it in your own ways, it will get better. I have faith in everyone who has depression. I know it’s hard but I promise you it gets better. Please make sure you are around to see the better days of depression. I still get my outbursts, but when my husband sees I’m getting bad again, he helps me. He notices what my house work is lacking and helps me. If I do all the dishes but the dinner dishes, he does them. He also puts on my favorite movie and just talks with me. He does everything he can to help my depression just clear out for a while. My little girl doesn’t know that I struggle, and my biggest fear is her knowing and feeling like it’s her fault, as I did with my own mother, but when I start getting bad I hold her. I sing her favorite song to her and tell her how much I love her. As long as my child knows it’s not her fault, I feel somewhat better. It’s been 3 weeks without a breakdown and I’m feeling pretty strong. I know my breakdown day is coming but I feel as though I can welcome it back. It is an old friend to begin with.

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About the Creator

Sandra Reynolds

Just a person with a passion.

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