I'm not good at translating my thoughts into words so I apologize if some or none of this makes sense.

I don't know if I truly have depression. I think I have some form of it. But I don't have anxiety or suicidal thoughts like most people. I just become lifeless. It comes in waves and hits me out of nowhere. Sometimes I can suspect when it's arriving and i try to prepare for it, but once I'm under water it's so hard to resurface. It's been on and off like this for years - started freshman year of high school, got really really bad sophomore year (I tried cutting, snapping rubber bands on my wrists, digging my nails in my skin, starving myself), then began recovering junior and senior year. It wasn't until these past two years of college that I began to really observe myself. I've sort of come to some conclusions.

My home life kind of sucks. Typical ups and downs I guess but there's a lot wrong and being at home is definitely a trigger to whatever makes me feel so... emotionless, i guess is a way to put it. But it's harder because I save face for the sake of my mom. I hate coming home, but love seeing her, and hate leaving her and hate leaving home, but I know it's not good for me to be around there for too long.

I'll add that I once saw a little cartoon on the internet once that said "What depression feels like" and one side said "What people think it feels like" - *sadness* and the other said "What it actually feels like" - *anxiety, sad, loneliness, the emotional equivalent of watching paint dry, etc.*. I laughed when I read it because that last one about the paint WAS SO TRUE for me. It just hit the nail on the head.

Anyways, I just don't feel like I deserve to be depressed. If you haven't seen Anna Akana on youtube, she has a video titled " I don't deserve to be depressed" and once again, that's exactly how i feel. I'm so happy at school, everything is good, like I actually feel genuine glee and comfort and warmth and joy. Then when it goes away, I try to coax it out with making dinner, or reading, drawing, painting, netflix, working out... and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't, like it hasn't this past week. I used to fight the water of nothingness that I felt overcoming me; I would deny what I was feeling and push through it and act as if nothing was wrong. But that lead to tendencies to drink and cut - basically unhealthy ways of coping with what was happening inside of me. That's where I give credit to my boyfriend for preventing me from falling into that trap - if not for him, I'm fairly sure i would not be the same person I am today, and I like who i am.

Even though I have supportive best friends and a great boyfriend, talking about this is not easy for me. Why tell someone about my uncalled for sadness and emptiness when my bff just lost her own mother and my bf just doesn't really understand me if I can't spell things out word for word? Why bring them down with me? Why drag them under water with me when they can be freely above the surface? I know I'll resurface eventually... but when? I never know.

Does anyone else feel like this? Like... they're not sure if theyre depressed or not?

Thanks for reading all that if you did