If you’re reading this, you can recover.
There is a saying that goes “If you need shade from the sun, the best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second-best time is today.”
You’re probably thinking “I’m here to read about recovery, not about shade and trees,” but bear with me. To me, depression is like the sun; not the bright sun that brings leaves to trees and buds to flowers, not the warm sun that makes the Earth comfortable during the Summer months, but the glaring sun that you cannot escape, that constantly beats down on you and saps your energy until there is barely anything left. Anyone suffering with depression will probably tell you that they want nothing more than some shade from this sun.
I have needed shade for a long time. Like so many other people, I started struggling with depression in middle school, and since then, I have experienced many of depression’s nasty symptoms.
I have felt anxious. I have walked into a room and felt like every eye was staring at me and every laugh was directed at me.
I have lost interest in hobbies. As a kid, I would read any book I could get my hands on; after depression, I rarely picked up a book unless it was for school.
I have felt mood swings. I have experienced the fleeting and euphoric high of happiness just to see it disappear and give way to the draining void of hopelessness in a matter of moments.
These are but a few of the symptoms that I have suffered with for more than half a decade. Up until about a year ago, however, I suffered in silence, with no one to help me. I thought, like so many others, that to admit that I wasn’t OK was to admit that I was weak and could not deal with my own problems. I can tell you now that that could not be further from the truth.
When I first admitted that I needed help, it was at the height of quarantine. I was feeling isolated and lonely, and my depression was spiraling out of control. One day, my Mom asked me a question she had asked me a million times before; “How are you honey?” I could’ve given the answer I had given a million times before; I could’ve said “I’m fine,” and gone back to suffering in quiet desperation, but for some reason, something within me changed. I took a deep breath, summoned up all the courage I could muster, and said, “I’m not ok. I feel really bad all the time and I don’t know what to do.”
Immediately after I said this, I felt my muscles release a tension that I didn’t even know they had as an intense feeling of relief washed over my entire body. Until recently, I wasn’t sure why, but I now know. It was one of the hardest things that I had ever done, but I had turned a corner.
I had planted the seed of my tree.
Since then, I have continued down the path of recovery. I have talked to friends, family, and a therapist about how I felt, and I can honestly say that I feel better than I have felt in years thanks to their help. To get help, however, you must first admit that you need it.
My encouragement to anyone struggling with depression is this; talk to someone. You can’t cure depression alone, and you certainly can’t do it overnight, but every journey starts with a single step. Take your step. Plant your seed, and one day you will sit in the shade under a mighty tree, the sun unable to penetrate the leaves, and smile.
Ryan J., Villanova University ‘23
