Depression….part uno

My safe haven

I have had three major depression episodes. I do not fully recollect my first one, it’s mostly a blur. I was in third grade. I cried, so much. I barely spoke. The days I was sent to school I remember being picked up early by my sister in our brown aerostar van. It’s probably the clearest image I have during that time. Laying down in the second row of seats while wearing my Old Navy matching shirt-short outfit crying and being taken to my mothers work. I spent a ridiculous amount of time lying awake on the bottom shelf of the stainless steel worktable in the laundry room my mother worked in. I don’t remember crying anytime I laid there, it was probably my favorite place lay and just be. I am not sure how long the episode lasted. I was taken to a physician where they asked a ridiculous amount of questions and suggested I be put on medication or maybe get a cat. Yes, those were the two options presented. Not therapy of any sort or change of regimen. Pills or cat. I was given a cat, we named it Tigger. It was a tabby that ended up being my worst nightmare. It may have snapped me out of it, at least I think, I don’t remember the day I started to feel normal again. But I do remember being terrorized by that cat. I did not think much about this part of my life until my severe depression resurfaced years later and I realized I needed real help.  -Bella


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