“You have depression,” says the psychologist. “Actually, you also have generalized anxiety disorder…”

I look at her knowingly, “I know, I got told this by a psychologist when I was attending university.”

“Yes, but your score is so high, you’re a few points away from almost being at the worst depression you could possibly have. I don’t even know how you’re functioning right now.”

I stood quiet for a second. “So…what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that you have major depression. It’s not only a simple depression that you can cure by talking alone. Have you considered medication?”

“No,” I feel repulsed. “No, I’m not taking medication. Medication is the last resort for me. I think I can get through this without it.”

“Truthfully…I don’t think I can help you here…you’ve had depression your whole life. Talk therapy isn’t going to fix all of it, I really recommend you try medication.”

I hated the idea of medication. Medication meant that I no longer had control of myself, that I lost to my own battle. I refused to take medication for depression and that was that. No convincing necessary.

I went through with talk therapy although she said she wouldn’t be able to help me. I talked through a lot of my problems, but of course, just like she said, none of it helped. I felt so hopeless. I’d cry all the time and I didn’t know how to feel or act; I was an emotional mess.

During this time in my life I ended up with a job that I really enjoyed. It was at a college, fixing classroom equipment and setting up for conferences and events. It was at this job that I met my boss who I now look up to as a father figure. He would take me to my many doctor appointments and would check up on me to make sure I was ok. I also met a coworker there who I felt was my mother figure and she was more than happy to accept that role in my life. She would take me to the park to go kayaking or just walk around. They helped me a lot during this time of my life. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have been able to keep this job and work through all of my troubles.

Time passes and I’m a year into my job. However, I’m not doing so great. I can no longer focus on school and had to take a break. I also couldn’t go through a day at work without sitting in my office, crying. I felt so helpless, as if though nothing in the world could help me out of my misery. And then the suicidal thoughts started. I was not ok. Every day was hell and all I wanted to do was end it. Maybe I could walk into traffic, or maybe I could hang myself. Maybe I could go home and stab myself with a knife. There were so many options…so many ways to end my life, and yet I felt that I couldn’t because I had someone in my life that was so special and important to me. He was my best friend, my partner in crime, and the love of my life.