Contributor to
We Can Hear You From First Class to Third World
by Karissa Ann
This past year has been an uneventful experience, but life changing. There wasn’t a death in the family, or a trip of a lifetime that occurred. But for whatever reason, I went through a really deep depression. For a long time, I didn’t know what to call it because it didn’t look like my “idea of depression” which I thought would be someone with unwashed hair, no job and no friends. I went to work every morning, though it was hard to pull myself out of bed. I had friends, I laughed a lot, but I also drank a lot, and lashed out at my family. I couldn’t stand to be around anyone for days at a time. People told me “depression isn’t real”, if it were than “why don’t people in third world countries have it?” That getting help through therapy was just a way to call out “all the things my parents did wrong.” It wasn’t until I acknowledged that I was depressed, that I decided to get help and realized my life needed a change. Whatever I was doing before was no longer working. I started going to therapy, setting boundaries with loved ones, but most importantly I started writing - and people actually liked what I had to say. Though I’ve published a few poems and essays, those closest to me were not always supportive of my healing process. I’ve been learning to accept that this journey is not for others to understand. This journey is mine and I have to be ok with that. I realized that I need to have the courage to walk my own path, and let others do the same. 🔷