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Who I Am

Essay by   •  March 29, 2011  •  Essay  •  955 Words (4 Pages)  •  895 Views

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Who I Am

When most people hear the word courageous they often associate it with tales of heroes slaying dragons or men climbing burning buildings to save babies. However, my story is nothing of that caliber. I have never slain an evil creature nor have I had enough courage to save a life, except, perhaps, for my own. I have been battling depression for over 10 years. Initially, I had denied the fact that I had this disease even though multiple people in my family have been diagnosed. In fact, I have only just been able to muster the incredible amount of courage necessary for me to be able to accept and deal with my depression. In addition to the difficulty of overcoming depression, my ability to cope with the hard times and difficulty of overcoming depression has made me come to define myself as a person of immense courage.

I have never been able to pinpoint the exact time in my life where I went from being "normal" to being "depressed". On the other hand, I do know that I have been battling the illness for over ten years. As I child I was considered "stable" by teachers, peers, and my parents. I had plenty of friends and a buzzing social life ,however, at home our family was falling apart. My mother was battling manic depression at the same time my father served her with divorce papers. In turn the stresses on my mother were placed as guilt and responsibility on my shoulders. As if all was not dreadful enough my Grandmother, with whom I was very close, passed away from cancer. Besides the troubled times at home there was a family history of depression which also made it a huge risk factor for me. It seemed as though with each day more obstacles were put in my path. With each obstacle my depression deepened and I began to feel as though I were doomed for failure. Unfortunately, my hopelessness and dismal moods went unnoticed for many years by my parents, teachers, friends, and even myself. Luckily, I was able to realize that my feelings of desperation were signs of depression and I began to ask for help. Regrettably, the process wasn't as simple or quick as I had thought it would be. Doctors and therapists came and went. I also tried many medications off and on throughout the years. Day after day, night after night, time just kept passing. Somewhere along the way, I lost weeks, months, and years. Ultimately I was feeling no positive change in my life, actually with each passing day I was feeling more pathetic and miserable.

After what seemed like an eternity of just plodding through life my grandmother spoke the words that would forever change my outlook on existence. It was an average day of moping and sulking when my Grandma called. As a woman partial to privacy she never asked too many questions other than the basic,"How was school today?" However, before saying our goodbyes she snuck in the words that helped me to gain the courage to change my life. She said, "Michaela, you know flowers need two things to grow; they need both sun and rain. These are your raining days. The sun is sure to follow." Her words affected me more than she will ever know. When I feel that the desperation has strength beyond

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