Four pill bottles sit on my desk day in and day out. They travel with me, they move with me, and they get refilled month after month. I’m sure that isn’t unusual in the scheme of the world, but sometimes thinking about what’s in my bottles makes me feel inadequate. Technically speaking, I have a chronic illness. It is one that you can’t see, one you won’t find from a blood test, but it is just as real as any physical disease.

I have major depressive disorder. It’s an illness that I don’t even fully understand sometimes, with symptoms that wax and wane and even evolve over time. It’s a complicated thing when the organ that isn’t working properly is the same organ that is trying to comprehend and cope with its own symptoms. I have struggled with depression for many years, but through the experiences I share in this blog I have found my strength, even in the strangest of places.

I can only speak to my experience with chronic depression, and believe me, I will, but my hope for this blog is to provide even one person out there with a little voice saying, “It might be dark where you are, but I promise you’re not alone.”

I thought about titling this blog “Beautifully Broken,” but the more I thought about it, the more I decided the moniker didn’t fit. It took me a while to come to this conclusion, but I have finally realized, I’m not broken. Sure, I need guidance and professional support and sometimes, medication, but what I don’t need, is to be fixed. I didn’t choose to have depression, but I can choose to fight it and to live and to love.

I’ve got chaos in my head, and from the outside, it looks like a disaster. But come and stay a while, dare to dip your toe into my messy reality, because maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the beauty in your own.