I am here to get to know my depression.

My depression has always been a part of me. But I have never really known it.

It has been more like a tumor, a parasitic growth. The quintessential monkey on my back that I ignore, but that controls me anyway.

You see, I thought ignoring it was the way I could loosen its grip on my soul.

I thought ignoring it was how I could live a “normal” life.

I thought ignoring it was taking back the power.

I was wrong.

I am here because I wanted to commit suicide.

I don’t want to die. I do want to take back the power. And I’m starting to realize that the only way to do that is to look my depression dead in the face and accept it as my own.

What no one seems to mention about self love, is the fact that it means loving every part of yourself. My depression is part of me. It isn’t fun, but continuing to hate it means I will continue to hate myself. Trying to kill my depression means I will always be trying to kill myself.

When I thought about some of the people I admire who have killed themselves (Anthony Bourdain, Sylvia Plath), it made me feel like depression is a battle I would eventually lose. I thought of it as a terminal disease that would eventually “get me” in the end. It would just be a matter of when.

It is this mentality of constantly running from my depression that made it so difficult to live with.

Then, once I was sexually assaulted, I started running from my trauma too.

I’ve been running. And running. For so many years. My depression and my trauma? They finally caught me.

So, here I am. At the psychiatric care unit of the University of Michigan Hospital.

I’ve finally stopped running. So it seems like it’s time to turn around and face what I’ve been running from. I want to get to know my depression. And my trauma. What do they want? What should I do to acknowledge them appropriately and put them to bed, until the next time?

I want to talk with and about my depression and my trauma. Without fear of judgement. Without worrying about stigmatization.

I want to take up space with my depression and trauma. As if they are worthy of peoples’ time, energy, notice.

For people to know me, they need to know my depression.

For people to love me, they need to love my depression.

For me to love myself, I need to love my depression.

So, what does my depression give me that I wouldn’t otherwise have?

• Empathy
• Patience for others going through mental health crises
• Appreciation and gratitude for moments of pure happiness
• Poetic understanding of the complexity of human emotion
• Complexity of worldview that others find interesting
• The ability to make others suffering from depression not feel alone
• The drive to educate myself and fight to improve mental health support in my community

Let’s start there.