It's an annoying thing, depression.

It comes, it goes. It's there when you need to be happy, only to be gone by the time you allow yourself to feel sad.

I've had more than my share of it. I was nine when it first hit. Nine. It's been five years, and it's still a battle, one that I feel that I'm losing. But if I was losing, I would be gone already. But at the same time, I can't be winning, since I'm still battling.

I guess it's just something I'll have to deal with.

But I don't want to. I want to be happy. I want to be normal.

But I can't, all because of the horrible thing called depression.

Depression.

Even the word seems sad.

/dəˈpreSH(ə)n/

I need to keep reminding myself that it isn't my fault. Because it isn't. As much as I feel that it is, it isn't.

It isn't my fault, it's theirs.

My brothers'

They died before they were born.

Shockingly, this is the first time that I've admitted it to the public. Ever.

It's what caused me to spiral into a deep depression. One that lead to countless hospitalizations and therapy and medication. One that caused pain for my whole family, not just me.

The only thing that comforts me about this is knowing that my sisters are free of this pain. They never got to know. One wasn't even one, the other wasn't born.

That's why I don't go into a deeper depression than I'm already in. For them. My baby sisters, my favorite people in the world.

Because I love them, even when I don't love myself.

-Gillian

P.S. If any of you need to talk about anything, feel free to PM us :)