I have thalassemia. I have a genetic blood disorder.
I would fill the bowl up with blood and clots. I have heavy menstruation.
I need to wear glasses. I have astigmatism.
Sometimes I wheeze or my chest feels heavy. I have asthma.
And, I have chronic depression. I have a mental illness.
Each of the above conditions take a toll on me physically. Including my depression. It is an illness, a disorder, an affliction that I must deal with. Just as I deal with my anemia, eyesight, periods, & breathing.
It does not go away like the common cold, after sipping warm tea and sucking on cough drops. It doesn’t even go away with medication. It takes a lifetime of rewiring your brain to accept and move forward from internalized traumas. To train yourself into loving who you are. To breathe through the nonstop onslaught of aggressive verbiage. To exercise the will to live even when every part of your brain is screaming for you to disappear into nothingness.
My depression is an illness. I do not believe there is a cure, but there are treatments and therapies that help. Just as there are for my asthma and anemia.
Depression is not something I choose. Although it may have grown from how I was nutured, I also know it’s been carried down by nature.
I accept this as my truth. And I try to not let it hold me back, just as I try to move forward with any other issue my body must indure.
I accept that depression is part of who I am. But it’s not all of who I am. It does not define me. And it should not be used against me.