Fall 2014- My grade 11 psychology class. I am taking notes from the overhead projector in the room. The slide highlights some of the major symptoms of depression. As I write the information down on my paper, I realize I am putting a checkmark beside nearly every single symptom. There it is staring me in the face. Trevor, you are depressed. Of course I am, I’m not happy anymore, haven’t been for months. I find the realization to be strangely beautiful. I want to be depressed. Because this is now who I am.

Time passes, the depression worsens. A dark secret I am determined to keep. I cannot focus in some of my school classes. I just play sad music in my headphones and doodle on my pages. Christmas comes, Christmas goes. Nights are getting increasingly sad and lonely, for no good reason. Some nights I pace around the skating rink on the pond. Listening to the same sad orchestra song. Over and over again. One night as I stare out the window, my youngest sister turns to me; “why are you sad?” she asks. I am taken aback, she is the first one who has seemed to notice, and it’s been months since I’ve felt okay. “I don’t know Amy, I’m just sad.”

I’m just sad.

And then I’m not sad anymore. Just like that. Somewhere in the universe my voice recording from February 1, 2015, still floats around. “These last few months have been the worst of my life, so now I’ll make these next few the best months of my life.” And everything changes. I just “willed” my way out of a long depressive episode. Sounds reasonable, no?

I’m not sad anymore. Just like that.

My life floods with more colour than I have ever seen before. I am more social than I have ever been. School is easy, school is fun. Chit-chat, easy grades, self-improvement. Weird that after school ends, I can’t shake the feeling that I didn’t do enough that day. I live with a strange confidence and self-assurance that I have never experienced before.

I realize that human beings are without limits. I am without limits. I don’t dream of changing the world, I just chase the endless bliss that will be out there for me. The trees are a new brilliant shade of green, the sky a most beautiful blue.

Just like the depression, I speak to nobody about my new lease on life. Because I don’t think anyone would understand. They would try to talk me out of some of my brilliant ideas.

What if somebody asked how I actually planned on going to college in Michigan where I would also work with the most important analytics person in college sports? Of course I don’t have a plan, but it doesn’t matter. I have everything under control. But I just don’t think that anybody else would be able to understand. Because they are being grounded by limitations they set for themselves. I am above limitations.

It is late spring now, and everything starts to disappear. My immortality is stripped away, piece by piece. I had it all, and now I am losing everything. I accept the familiar feelings of depression back into my life. This time it is worse. There is no strange beauty. I flew high, and I crashed hard. I am exhausted. Numb. Broken. My ultra clear vision is reduced to a grey haze. Life has no colour anymore.

Life has no colour anymore.

Mom asks me a question one day, as I hide away in the solitude of my room. She asks if I have been feeling depressed. I tell the truth, I am feeling depressed. I don’t go into much detail about the glorious intermission I had between depressive episodes. It didn’t seem important at the time. Besides, it was gone. It was gone forever. I’ll never get it back.

That was just the beginning of my life living with mental illness. It was a long process to get a correct diagnosis and an effective treatment plan. But one thing changed the day I talked about my feelings. I now had help on my side. I wasn’t fighting alone.

To this day, I’m not fighting alone.