I've been blogging on and off for a few years. Even before then, I was writing. Whether it was stories in my notebook or scribbles on scraps of paper, I didn't care. I've found things that I've written from over ten years ago!
I'm 18, and online, I'll go by Bex. Some people might know me, or recognize me or my story, but that's okay. I don't mind people knowing who I am, but I don't want to publicize my identity either.
I've recently decided to start blogging again, and this time, I'm going to share it. I want to help people. I want to guide others who are in my situation, let them know that they're not alone. I've been through hell and back, and I believe I can use my experience in a way that will benefit myself and others.
Where do I start? Let's start with the name of this blog. "Escape the maze." This is a term I have recently started using, to describe my battle with depression.
I was 12 years old, when I first got the courage to tell my mom, "I'm depressed." I was bombarded with questions. "What does that mean? What is depression to you? Why do you think that? How do you know?"
My mom has suffered, and still suffers, from depression. She wasn't trying to accuse me of anything, she was simply assessing the seriousness of the situation. Soon after, I started seeing a life coach.
I won't go into what happened since then, as six years will hardly fit into one blog post. But from that day, maybe even a little earlier, I feel like I have been stuck in this maze, a maze called depression. I have hit dead ends, gone in circles, almost given up multiple times. I've tried shortcuts, and climbing over walls, and asking others for help.
In these past few months, I've made huge improvements. Six years of therapy finally paid off, and at last I've found my way out of the maze. This doesn't mean that I've escaped forever, or that I won't get stuck in another maze someday. But I know that, at least for now, I'm out.
One of the questions I was asked when telling someone my concept was, "What now? You've finally escaped the maze, where do you go? Where can you go?"
My answer was simple and easy. "Now I go anywhere I want."
I have the whole world ahead of me, and all I have to do is pick a direction. In a way, this was one of the hardest parts. It was the last stretch of the maze. For about two years, I've been so close to recovery, but terrified. What was stopping me most was I couldn't figure out who I was without depression. For years, it was what I identified with, it was all I knew. And when I finally realized I was going to leave it behind, I panicked. For months, I struggled with the question.
"What am I without my depression? Who am I?"
It took me a while to figure it out, but when I did, I realized the answer had been in front of me the whole time. I want to write. Ever since I first started feeling depressed, writing had been my escape, my way of just releasing everything in my mind.
I'd always considered myself a decent writer. Not amazing, but definitely not bad. It was only recently that I had a 'wow' moment, and realized, hey I'm actually good at this.
Maybe I'll write a book, or maybe I'll live my life on my blog. I'm not planning my whole life, and I don't expect any of it to be easy. But I figure, if I made it this far, I can get through anything.
I'm 18, and online, I'll go by Bex. Some people might know me, or recognize me or my story, but that's okay. I don't mind people knowing who I am, but I don't want to publicize my identity either.
I've recently decided to start blogging again, and this time, I'm going to share it. I want to help people. I want to guide others who are in my situation, let them know that they're not alone. I've been through hell and back, and I believe I can use my experience in a way that will benefit myself and others.
Where do I start? Let's start with the name of this blog. "Escape the maze." This is a term I have recently started using, to describe my battle with depression.
I was 12 years old, when I first got the courage to tell my mom, "I'm depressed." I was bombarded with questions. "What does that mean? What is depression to you? Why do you think that? How do you know?"
My mom has suffered, and still suffers, from depression. She wasn't trying to accuse me of anything, she was simply assessing the seriousness of the situation. Soon after, I started seeing a life coach.
I won't go into what happened since then, as six years will hardly fit into one blog post. But from that day, maybe even a little earlier, I feel like I have been stuck in this maze, a maze called depression. I have hit dead ends, gone in circles, almost given up multiple times. I've tried shortcuts, and climbing over walls, and asking others for help.
In these past few months, I've made huge improvements. Six years of therapy finally paid off, and at last I've found my way out of the maze. This doesn't mean that I've escaped forever, or that I won't get stuck in another maze someday. But I know that, at least for now, I'm out.
One of the questions I was asked when telling someone my concept was, "What now? You've finally escaped the maze, where do you go? Where can you go?"
My answer was simple and easy. "Now I go anywhere I want."
I have the whole world ahead of me, and all I have to do is pick a direction. In a way, this was one of the hardest parts. It was the last stretch of the maze. For about two years, I've been so close to recovery, but terrified. What was stopping me most was I couldn't figure out who I was without depression. For years, it was what I identified with, it was all I knew. And when I finally realized I was going to leave it behind, I panicked. For months, I struggled with the question.
"What am I without my depression? Who am I?"
It took me a while to figure it out, but when I did, I realized the answer had been in front of me the whole time. I want to write. Ever since I first started feeling depressed, writing had been my escape, my way of just releasing everything in my mind.
I'd always considered myself a decent writer. Not amazing, but definitely not bad. It was only recently that I had a 'wow' moment, and realized, hey I'm actually good at this.
Maybe I'll write a book, or maybe I'll live my life on my blog. I'm not planning my whole life, and I don't expect any of it to be easy. But I figure, if I made it this far, I can get through anything.