When depression hit me I was still a child.
I was 12 years old and it felt like my life was over. I felt hopeless and could not think about being an adult. I was full of sadness and suffering.
But instead of giving up I reached for help in an early state. I won't lie to you: It got worse before it got better. I cried a lot and wished I could just disappear.
Today I'm 25 and more alive than ever before.
I laugh loudly and often. I care for myself and I love me.
Time healed me and I got better by going to psychotherapy and listening to music and being outside, close to nature.
I was afraid of living but my fear of dying was worse.
Bit by bit I gained my hope back.
And here I am: Writing a letter about how I never gave up.
Please don't give up, either.