This is a series of blogposts in which I will interview people battling depression

You can find the first post in the series here:  Getting up 1: An introduction 

And the second:  Cara (19): "It's just a defect in my brains"

Please note that these interviews are translated and english is not my first language. I apologize if anything gets lost in translation. 

Glenn (22): "It felt like a defeat to admit I wasn't doing well"

Glenn would like to do his story, he told me a while back at coffee. Confidently he talked about his depression, his fears and the misunderstanding he regularly encountered. Read Glenn's story below.

Glenn: "Life is quite fun, eventhough it sometimes can be a real challenge. For a long time no-one knew about my depression. I was 17 and thought people would immediatley judge me. I never wanted that. I wanted to be treated like any other person.

Depression is simply part of you. Several family members have also suffered from depression, so it's in my genes. In my life things have happened that stimulated it, resulting in shit hitting the fan in 2010. I was bullied in elementary school for being fat. Actually I was mostly ignored. I had almost no assertive power, so I remained a target for years. My puberty was characterized by low lows, because I almost developed an eating disorder because I was fat. When I was sick once I lost alot of weight, which caused me to  suddenly do get attention from other people and girls. It felt so great! I didn't want to lose that feeling, so gaining weight was simply not an option. People will return to thinking I'm a fatty and am no good, I thought. That's when I flew off the handle. Every day I counted calories, I made it a sport to stay under 400 calories.

Until I got my first girlfriend. That made the feeling subside. But then I was dumped and I got turnt upside down: nobody will ever fancy me or find me attractive. The only haven was my grandfather. I'm his only grandchild so I was treated like the king. It made all the bullying and lack of selfconfidence bearable. I never talked about it with him. I wanted to look strong to my family. But in 2010 he died. The floor collapsed under my feet, aswell for the rest of my family. It felt like the captain dissapeared, and no-one was left to steer the wheel. From that moment on, everything I had bottled up was coming out. But he wasn't there to fall back on. Not that I actually wanted to talk, because it felt like a defeat to admit I wasn't doing well. So I dismissed it. But my mother saw it perfectly well. It was only when I returned home that I completely collapsed, I opened up to her. "You go talk to someone," she said. That was the final push I needed.

"It felt like the captain dissapeared, and no-one was left to steer the wheel."

I went into therapy and was diagnosed with depression. That did not work because the therapist especially thought I had to mourn, but there was obviously more to it than that. Eventually, I stopped going. Thus, the depression got worse, at that moment I also stopped my eductation I didn't feel I could handle it. I got a full-time job in a supermarket where I had too much time to think. I felt so bad. Everyone around me was going to college, and I was just stuck here. That's when I reached the lowest low I ever had to face. I locked myself in my room for days and was not approachable. I just wanted to sleep. Then at least you do not have to think and there is peace. When I did come out, I quarreled with everybody. I did not consciously but I felt misunderstood,  they did not understand me because I did not allow them.

I had fallen so deep that one day I got a box of pills and four suicide notes ready. Two for my best friends, one for my mother and one for my father. I did not want to hurt the people around me. I did not want to die. I just wanted to get rid of that fucking feeling. But I did not do it, because of the thought that so many people would be hurt, I couldn't do it. In addition, I was scared. What if it fails? That's when I put all my cards out on the table. I thought, if I want to get out of this, I have to be honest. I told my mother and my friends what I was planning. Their tears and sadness made me realise there are people who care about me, people I want to live for. After that I still had tough moments. One time I went to a track. As I sat there waiting, I got a message from a friend. "What are you doing?" She asked. That brought me right back to reality. I drove to the first best florist and brought her flowers. She asked me why. "Just because," I said. I ended up telling her later on.

"I did not want to die. I just wanted to get rid of that fucking feeling."

Then I went back to the doctor, who gave me the advice to try antidepressants. In the leaflet I read that my feelings could get worse in the first few weeks and I was not sure that I would survive. I was also afraid that I would become addicted. So I'm going to do it on my own: no drugs and no therapy. I did not want tell and feel my story all over again. It was time to look ahead and with the help of my parents, friends and family I did it. They have dragged me through it and had so much patience with me. They learned me to focus on small, positive things. I quietly waited before choosing a new education and took a year to rest and work on myself. That went with highs and lows. I felt the lows coming, and now I could always talk to someone who knew what I was going through. They treated me like a normal person. Like Glenn.