I don’t know if I was cursed by the ouija board I did in 9th grade, or the mirror I accidentally broke, but the universe took my luck and threw it off of a five-story building. These past two years have been hell. Back-to-back terrible events and situations seemed to plague me. I did not experience much joy during this time. Due to the amount of stress that was pinning me to the ground, I simply did not have the energy to get up anymore. I decided to reach out because I knew how bad things were getting. The onset of suicidal ideations is something I have never experienced before. It is truly an unexplainable pain. To heighten this, the medication that was prescribed to help “fix” my depression, ultimately led to every black box symptom in the book. During this time I was just existing, I stopped living. Living was too painful. Nothing anybody could say was ever going to change the thoughts in my head. “Try meditating.” “It always gets better.” “Look on the bright side.” Just a part of the anthem that gets retold to every depressed individual.
Depression is a storm. Sometimes it’s predictable and you're able to prepare for it. On the other hand, it can be like the weatherman that sucks at their job saying, “we will be getting 2” of rain.” Then you wake up to 12” of rain. The next thing you know the town is flooded. For months, it felt as if I was just laying in the rain. Each storm would dump more water, creating a bigger and bigger pool. However, the puddle didn’t seem to stop the cars around me. They simply drove around it and continued on with their life. Nobody saw me in that spot. I blended in so I could remain invisible. It reached a point where I was completely surrounded. As if I was in the middle of the ocean, with nothing else in sight. Coexisting with the waves that swept me further away.
I didn’t leave this spot for a year. It took me, one, whole, year. One one-year-long episode. One year of fighting every waking day. One year of drafting letters for loved ones. One year of mental math every time I passed a pill bottle. One year of feeling like a puppet. Constantly putting on a play so people did not notice. I remember the moment I couldn’t even smile anymore because it would physically hurt. The amount of times people would point out how sad I looked and my stand-up lines were either, “This is just my face,” or “I was genetically gifted with an rbf.” Depression took away Kennedi. Kennedi is not there when depression is at its highest, because she needs to protect any piece she has left of herself. Depression clones who I am into someone I don’t recognize. I’m learning everyday the steps that I need to incorporate to keep my episodes at bay. Having a routine that keeps me grounded like weightlifting or cooking. Despite my terrible experience with medication before, I knew I needed an extra push to get better. I started a new medication and it was the last puzzle piece to becoming myself again. Against everything I believed, it did “get better.” You truly have to ride out the storm because time heals. Don’t be afraid when sunny skies come around and soak it all in. Take small portions of joy throughout every day and keep it close to your heart.