Dear Cee,

This is the first time I write down my feelings.

I had a rough infancy, and I was bullied in middle school. I think it was because I had extra weight, but I was a happy child. I had always had a very rich imagination, and I always have been very happy getting lost in it. I remember lots of bad things that happened to me, but I was always still happy. I always overcame difficulties and always took all the positive from the negative.

I won't say that I know what depression is. If you are a person with depression, I won't say that I understand you - I just know how it is for me, and I know you can never tell someone with depression that you know what they are feeling because you don't. So many people describe it as being sad for a long time; for me, it was not feeling at all. I remember the first time I felt nothing, but before getting to it, I would like to share what I read once. I read that the mental health of a person is like a bucket, and for everything that the person holds or deals with, like traumas and bad things, the bucket is filling bit by bit, and depression came when the bucket is totally filled and all the water comes out.

For me, the first time I remember was with an amorous deception. I don't want to talk here about relationships, but it was a very remarkable turning point for me. I felt totally empty because I thought that my life was going to change to live forever happy, and that wasn't true. I've noted that relationships are more complicated than romantic comedies tell you, but another time I'll share more about this - today I'll talk about depression. Another thing I think was a turning point were big changes in my life: people that left, family members that passed away, and economic instability.

After this situation, I felt like the bucket was broken. I didn't feel sad; I just didn't feel anything at all. For everything I did, I always heard aggressive voices telling me that I wasn't enough. And then came the moment I discovered I needed help. It was the first time I heard that other voice. I got COVID, and one day I passed out and fell. After I passed out, I felt like stories I've heard of sleep paralysis. I couldn't move, and I felt weaker and weaker. I was awake but like I was seeing myself from behind, exactly like the movie "Get Out" when the protagonist falls into hypnosis. I have always liked to be in control, and I was very upset because I hadn't control of my body. That was the first time I heard that other voice, different from the others.

Since I am an adult, I remember that I never feared death. I am a science person and an agnostic, and I always had seen death like an exploration, a path to the unknown. It is not good or bad; it just sparks my curiosity. I don't belong to any religion, but there are some beliefs of certain ones I agree with in some way - those are Buddhism and Shintoism. Principally the thinking of reincarnation and the belief of doing good, helping others, and letting others live. I am telling you this because of what the voice said to me.

So I was lying on the floor, unable to move, and heard very close to me this voice, like it was talking directly into my ears. This was a very gentle and soft voice; I remember it had a female tone, very tender. It said to me: "Everything is going to be okay," "If you don't make it in this one, you will in the next one" (referring to reincarnation maybe?). It was a very shocking moment in my life, but I'll always remember that voice. I never heard it again, but I've felt it sometimes, like it is always there for me.

Analyzing what the voice said to me, I think it was my direct subconscious just calming me through the traumatic event, letting me know that no matter what happens, I'll be okay - there is nothing bad about me, I don't have to prove anything to anyone.

After the traumatic moment, I passed out for a couple of minutes in the morning, and then I was paralyzed for 2 hours, then 2 more hours to recover. I felt very weak. That same day in the afternoon, suddenly I started to cry, then I heard the other voices. They were very aggressive and very rough: "Why didn't you die?", "No one loves you!", "You are crap!", "You will never be enough!". It was very hard. I needed help.

I needed help but I didn't search for it. As a man, as I was taught, demonstrating vulnerability wasn't manly. I discovered later that showing and putting words to vulnerability is the manliest thing to do. So I searched for "help" in books and videos; it helped a lot.

It happened more than 4 years ago since I am writing this, but I still feel depressed. I think depression never leaves; it's just learning to live with it. The best way I found that works for me was working on myself, giving myself love, taking care of my body. The bad voices have never left me; I just speak to myself louder than them. I speak louder but very soft and gentle, in the same way that mysterious voice spoke to me. I always remember that voice.

Finally, I would like to share that the best way I found is to speak to myself with gratitude and gentleness. You need to be very kind and good with yourself to be good with others; inner conversation is key for living with depression. Also, speak about your situation, seek professional help. I would love to have searched for it when I was breaking down; maybe it would have taken less time to get better at this.