I started showing signs of depression back when I was about 16.
Back then, when resources on mental health were scarce, it didn’t really cross my mind that I was suffering from depression. I just felt ill and different from others.
Growing up was a roller coaster ride. I spent every week split between two houses that treated me and my brother differently – the rules were different, the way of living was different, there was even a struggle on the religion side.
My entry into the world was traumatic. Things didn’t get better as a teenager. I fell into depression and attempted to end my own life. But my long dark tunnel held the faintest glimmer at the end. This battle is not over.
I had a really difficult childhood. It was not about the money or opportunities – my parents always provided and gave me what I needed. Rather, it was mainly the differences in terms of the way I see things vs how my family saw things.