I clearly remember sitting at the funeral home making arrangements for my sister’s funeral. We had to pick the songs that we would sing, the scripture that would be read, and who the paul bearers would be. I didn’t really care about any of these things as I sat there. I just wanted my parents to make the choices that would bring them comfort.
When I was a child, I never understood the concept of depression. People referred to it often as sadness. In middle school, I was bullied verbally by the same girl. Hearing how fat I was. That I didn't have any friends. I was embarrassed by myself, so I never told anyone.
Looking back at my youth I was surrounded by many people suffering from mental illness, but I didn’t really know what it was at the time. I saw people around me suffering and feeling hopeless. I always felt so helpless, afraid and confused.