My Mission and Depression: It Wasn't a Cop-Out

“Why, in my right mind would I ever want to kill myself?” That was my thought as I walked down the dirt streets of Nicargua. I remember getting hit by an avalanche of thoughts telling me to take my own life. It was heavy and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t lift it off of me. “Everyone feels this way, right?” “It will pass.” “I’m not praying enough, I’m not studying efficaciously enough.” “I just have to work harder and be more obedient.” I wasn’t good enough. I mentioned to my dad (who was in prison) in an email the thoughts that I was struggling with and he said that sometimes he felt down too but he just had to keep his chin up and things got better as he pressed forward in faith. Ok dad, if you say so.

A person I didn’t recognize

I continued to battle a personality that I realized wasn’t mine but for some reason couldn’t change. This was not who I thought I was. I used to be cool, fun, and outgoing.

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