Personal Narrative: Experiencing A Depression

People say those who kill themselves are selfish, but where is the selfishness in deciding one cannot tolerate any more self destruction? Depression is awful. A blank, bitter sadness seizes any means of color or excitement in the world. No interests. No hope. Not even a minuscule fragment of motivation to search for light in this incessant darkness. Experiencing a depression myself, I have lived in my own despairing world of black and white, stripped of color and excitement. I deemed suicide an easy, enticing escape from my perpetual miseries. However, I could not allow this pathetic darkness to defile me and drain all the love left in me. I prevailed, obliterating this monster inside me, and I feel as if my application would be incomplete …show more content…
People who described depression put my inexplicable emotions into words, so I took it upon myself to research depressive disorders, learning this monster clawing at me was a disease. This monster grew, dismembered me, broke me down, abused me, but never did it completely disfigure my positive, beautiful, and free-spirited soul. It felt as if I had two people battling inside of me: this morbid, daunting character, who valued nothing, not even her own life, and this sheepish, loving yet analytical girl who quietly let this disease destroy her and drown out her positivity with waves of desolation and despair. She watched herself crumble and did nothing, not because she was weak, but because she was saving her strength to battle. She had decided she would not withstand another …show more content…
The thought of all the cities, states, and countries I would leave unseen and all the adventures I would leave unventured created this thirst for passion in my life. So, I drenched myself in my arts: I fell in love with writing; Writing was my therapy. Finding my emotions expressed in pictures, photography drew me into its depths. I loved drawing, for it gave my hands something to do while my mind raced and ran. I cheerlead competitively, so I used my anger and frustrations as a fuel to excel in my tumbling. This was my self therapy, but eventually I had to seek a professional therapist. My therapist and I disassembled this depression, thoroughly understanding its character so I could manipulate it and gain complete control of myself. Flooding myself with passion drew my path towards recovery. I left this monster drowning- excitement, happiness, independence, and most importantly in love. I learned the importance of loving