When I was around 13 an 14 years old I suffered from severe depression and anxiety. When I tried to tell my parents I thought I had depression they refused to listen, and so I never got any help for it. There were some really dark times. I wrote the typical poetry and drew what I thought were dark, symbolic pictures. I would stay home from school because I literally couldn’t get out of bed. I once stood in the bathroom with a steak knife at my wrist for about an hour, unable to decide.

But the point is, I got through it. Yes, I suffered. but I survived. I’m actually glad, looking back, that I never got on medication. There is something to be said for finding inner strength and overcoming problems without medication dumbing you down and taking away your emotions. Many years after that the anxiety resurfaced and I tried medicine. Well, it took away the anxiety, but it also took away my ability to feel much of anything.