It started out slow. I barely felt any difference. I always thought that I couldn’t get depression I had a happy family. My grandma loved me. I always thought that there was someone that had it much worse off than me. Then it evolved into, I’m not depressed I never cry. Then it lead to me bottling up my feelings I wrote something recently that I feel really explains what I felt.
In eighth grade, I was clinically depressed. I was prescribed multiple different antidepressants to try and chase the sickness away. My therapist suggested I name my illness, I named them Reaper. I gave Reaper their own Identity. Sometimes Reaper went on vacation and I was able to laugh and smile with my friends. When Reaper was away I got As on my test but when they came back. I was numb. I felt nothing. I didn’t feel happy. I didn’t feel sadness. I didn’t care about anything. There were days when it felt like Reaper was sitting on my chest and crushing my lungs. I would tell my mom “I have a stomach