I suffer from depression. I am not ashamed of that. Nor am I ashamed that I sometimes need medication to help me through darker points in my life. It has taken me many years and a lot of self-reflection to get to the point that I feel comfortable enough to say all of this. It’s taken a lot for me to get to where I don’t judge myself every time I admit that I suffer from a mental health disorder. Which is why I’m still working on not expecting horrible judgments when I talk to others about it.
But there are some places that you can go knowing that you won’t get judged. Today, when I realized I needed help, I went to my local hospital. I thought I’d get the help I needed there. I thought I’d be treated with respect for admitting I had a problem that I couldn’t fix on my own. I thought a lot of things. Continue reading