So many people struggle with depression and anxiety. There are more people who are struggling than just you. Finding the support you need to get through it is crucial. Being able to find ways that help you cope are essential for your well-being. Everyday happiness can happen for everyone if they are willing to put in the work that needs to be done for it. This article will give great tips that can help you find success in finding that happiness.

Trigger warning:

We've all been there when it comes to experiencing down moments and discouragement. It may have been a job loss, financial hardship, relationship breakup, or death of a loved one that caused you to dive into a state of depression. However, for most of us, time will heal the pain and grief felt by the blow of loss, and the depression will cease. But for some people, depression is a way of life. Those that live with clinical depression feel a hopelessness and emptiness daily.

My Story 'The Wounds and Lessons of Childhood”

Let’s start with an introduction. My name is Laura and I am a current MSc student in neuroscience and future PhD in psychiatry. In these last years, I have come to realize how little communication there is between scientists and the rest of society. Science is always advancing, creating new tools and obtaining new knowledge that can be of use to everyone, or that can pose new ethical questions on which society as a whole should have a say. But how is anyone going to take advantage of the new information or generate a debate with it, if it is not made available to them in an accessible and comprehensible way?

I've never had very much... I won't lie about that, but I've always found ways to be at least a little happy. From a young age, I was always different, always made fun of for my weight, how I was as a person... even how I never really could speak or perform like I wanted to. As a young child, I got along better with adults than kids my age. My first real best friend was a sixth grader when I was in first grade. I haven't ever had more than one or two close friends, and I always picked the ones more liable to move or find a way to leave me right when it hurt the most. Then, my family started leaving me, too. First was my grandparents which was a natural timing; I'd never really thought much on it until I soon lost my father as well. I was 12 and had only had one boyfriend. Well, after losing my dad, it seemed like more and more of my peers realized I would be a soft target. I was made fun of relentlessly to the point that going to a different high school than most of them was the best part of getting older.

She sits in the car, staring ahead, her lips a straight line. With one glance you can’t pick up on the nervous tapping of her foot, the microscopic twitch of her fingers around the Styrofoam container in her lap. You may not pick up on the way her eyes dart to the door handle, but eventually, you’ll notice the stream of tears down her left cheek. Whatever flipped the switch doesn’t matter anymore. She’s not thinking about the worthless argument, or the feeling of rage it brought on for no reason at all. All she can think about now is the noise in her mind.“This.IsNot.You.This.IsNot.You.This.IsNot.You.”She imagines unbuckling her seat belt, unlocking the door, and sailing through the open space to her death.This.IsNot.You.Does the car coming up on the right have the capacity to crush her right away? Will she feel it for long?This.IsNot.You.This.IsNot.You.Could they revive her?Stop.Would she be deformed?Stop!Would her son recognize her?STOP IT. STOP IT. STOP IT NOW! GOD, HELP! HELP ME! HELP ME!Her husband sighs, his eyes looking over to where she sits, motionless. “So, are you going to say something? I’m sorry I upset you.”Flip.She reaches up, wipes her tears, and takes a breath before looking back at him.“Sorry, babe. I had to ride the wave.”

For as long as I can remember, depression has played a huge part in my life. Not because I wanted it to, or because I let it, but because of the chemical imbalance taking place inside my brain. I honestly don't remember when my diagnosis switched from "depression" to "major depressive disorder." When I was 19, I was told I not only had major depression, but that my depression was refractory, or treatment resistant. No amount of anti-depressants could cure the sadness I felt on a daily basis. By 21, I had five suicide attempts, five inpatient hospitalizations, and one two-week stay at a residential facility, all within a 6-year timeline.

The rain had been coming down for days, until today. So my dog and I went for a visit to a local river. The water was so cold at first. How warm it became. How scary and uncomfortable it was. As my toes descended, then my ankles, my calves. How I jerked back, exposing the shining of skin, which was reflecting brightly back at me. How I loved the feeling of the rapid moving stream, but detested the lack of transparency in the murky middle of the river.

For about seven years now I’ve been dealing with depression. Some days are better than others. It is very difficult at times to handle my depression, because I want to be able to control my feelings, and I know at times I can’t.