The ages of 16-22 were awesome. I got to do so many wonderful things, and travel; it was bliss.

After the death of my mother when I was 24, everything seemed to slowly unravel in my life. I believe the pain of that, and what it did to my family, helped the development and ferocity of my depression which slowly took over everything up until 2007, when I was finally diagnosed, and started receiving treatment.

It's been a bumpy 13 years, but I feel more on top of things, now. And I feel so much wiser.

I'd love it if the last part of my life had some nice surprises in store.