I came to know depression when I was no more than a child of 13.
I didn’t know there was a name to it, the devils I was battling at the time. But for sure there could be no bleaker moments, whatever the future has brought me so far.
Looking back now, it all seems laughable. What crisis could a child of 13 have? What could be so enduring that one could be tempted to do so?
I was a child, just a child with no care of the world.
But now I realised depression is a little like love; you never know it until it hits you. And like a truck going at 120 km/h on the road, it hits you without any warning.
There isn’t always a concrete explanation for everything, though without doubt, each comes with a definite cause.
I was there; driven towards the border of living, a path I chose to tread on alone, guided by the contemplations of a child. I was the master of my life- or so I thought at the moment.
I forgot it was not a choice I had the right to make. That I was living a life not of my own making. How selfish I was, that in order to mend my broken soul I would be willing to break others’ hearts. A temporary comfort built on someone else’s lament.
I have been there. I went through it all. I pulled every loving heart with me into my misery. I tugged on every conscience I could get my grasp on.
But even after all these years, not even once do I feel regret. For everything began there, at that moment. One swift act that taught me what my years were not able to.
Some choose to wallow in self pity and drown themselves in despair. And yet some refused to be defeated and fight. Everyone goes through more or less the same things. But how we deal with them, that’s what differentiate us.
That’s what makes you and I, different.
For even life offers lessons, they need to be discovered.
I learnt to embrace every thorn with a smile, no matter how hurtful, for each one is the becoming of me.
I chose. And I choose.