"I love who I am today because I fought to become her."
-Kaci Diane
The hardest parts of my life have been when I was fundamentally changing who I was. The most notable change was when I moved out of state to college.
I come from a family with addictive personalities (This doesn't mean that we're druggies. Just that when we like something or decide something we become easily completely wrapped up with that something) and I realized quickly that I am no exception. I was searching for my happiness through partying every weekend, but in reality it wasn't the best way for me to cope with how much I hated school. I didn't know how to make the friends I wanted, and instead was left with friends who judged me more than they lifted me up. I was changing from an immature high schooler who expected things to come easy into an independent adult who realized that the effort I had been putting into my own life up to that point was not going to cut it anymore. But I had no idea how to use my extra effort. So I put my self worth in other people's hands. I tried so hard to make everyone like me when I should've been working hard to make myself like me.I was still in a rut when I transferred to a new college back in my home state. From the outside I knew everything was going right: I was at my dream school, I was moving in with some amazing girls, and I had a family who was supportive of all of my school changes. But inside of my own head I was losing control.It began by avoiding social situations because they seemed exhausting and I didn't want to talk to new people, this was unusual for me because I am typically pretty extroverted. And my constant avoidance of people led to me being very lonely. After that stage became permanent I started skipping class. I had no interest in what I was learning, I had lost all motivation, and I just gave up on myself academically. After that I started to have troubles getting out of bed at all. I would lie there and stare at my computer screen not even watching whatever show was playing, but just staring. I was in a heavy fog and I couldn't push myself out of it. I was so sad and hopeless and the worst part was that I had no idea why this was happening to me.
It was then that I knew I had depression. I withdrew from classes until the start of the next semester and I told some members of my family about how I had been feeling and asked for help. They had a hard time accepting what was happening, depression was such a taboo subject at the time (and for the most part still is today) that convincing people that I actually needed medical help was really difficult. People didn't see it as me being sick, they just saw it as me not putting in effort to be happy. And it was a mountain to climb in itself to convince them that my condition was serious. Thankfully I was eventually able to visit with a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with depression and put me on antidepressants.