Up to my early twenties, I just thought I was weird. I guess it was while reading an article about depression in a women's magazine that I realized "depressed," as the article explained it, was a word that described me. Before that, I knew I was unhappy a lot. I figured I was just unhappy because I was weird. Then I started to understand that my problem was not unique . . . that this was a condition others experienced and that they felt similar to how I felt. I think it became easier to think about my problem when I could name it.

I had thought my problem was that I was unlike other people. I've learned that the experience of being depressed is amazingly similar among depressed people. PC forums provide lots of evidence of that. After reading the article, I started talking to doctors about how I was not doing well in life. They told me I was depressed. I had thought I was some kind of freak . . . like a mutant . . . that my mind just didn't operate like a normal human mind. The truth is that depression is profoundly human; I am human. I'm not the first of some new species on the evolutionary tree. I actually have an awful lot in common with an awful lot of other people. I thought that was good to know.