I sometimes try to imagine what my life would've been like without depression. I like to think I'd be more successful. I'd have at least one bachelor's degree by now because the reason I quit school was that I didn't want to live anymore. I didn't see the point in suffering through mundane things like tests to get a piece of paper that others use as a qualifier for my worth. I wonder what types of relationships I would've had, friendships or otherwise.
I am seeing a psychiatrist to find a medication to help reduce the destruction of the disease. There is a piece of me that is afraid to imagine my life without this companion who's been with me for over 15 years. Any depressive will tell you, they would do anything not to feel this way. It's true. It doesn't make it any less scary.
As difficult as it is to admit, I have learned a lot from the disease as well. I have felt great emotional pain, and it's given me access to empathy. It has allowed me to open my mind and see beyond right and wrong to the point where I am a fairly non-judgemental person. Sure, my philosophies have been shaped by depression, and while I wouldn't call myself a pessimist, I do hold a strong sense of skepticism.
If I find a medicine that works, it means I won't be living with the thought of a way out in the forefront of my mind. I won't be battling my mind throughout the day. Science needs to catch up because I'm not a big fan of trial and error medicine. Nor am I a fan of the fact it can take a couple of months even to feel an effect.