Something near and dear to my heart.....

I've thought long and hard about my decision to write about my experiences with mental illness. I'm speaking from the viewpoint of someone with has a sibling, a spouse, and myself with mental illnesses. I am not trying to say that I am an authority on mental illnesses, just a soldier in the war.

I've dealt with chronic depression for my entire life. I don't remember a time that depression wasn't in my life. I once told an aunt, when I was four years old, that I wished I was dead. I attempted many times to take my life and the last time I tried was the day that I stopped going to school. I ended up with my GED (passed on the first try!)

I remember crying for no apparent reason and when my mom would ask why I would tell her that I missed my grandpa, who had died when I was 7. It was within the last few years that I realized that I wasn't crying for that reason, but just because of my depression. I was kind of a crybaby when I was in elementary school. I cried over EVERYTHING!

I really hadn't dealt with other people's mental illnesses very much. At least not until I was in my 20's and my younger sister started rebelling and changed her entire personality practically overnight.

Then I met my husband and learned about his mental illness and then I had to deal with mental illness in my boyfriend/fiance and then husband. Each time it's been a different experience and I learn new things every day.

There have been times that I feel like I can't handle any more of it, but somehow I deal and go on.