Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my mother decided I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, read the same book over and over, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my my abundant free time thinking about death.
Whenever you read a cancer booklet or website or whatever l, they always list depression among the side effects of cancer. But, in fact, depression is not a side effect of cancer. Depression is a side effect of dying. (Cancer is also a side effect of dying, almost everything is, really.) But my mom believed I required treatment, so she took me to see my regular doctor Jim, who agreed that I was veritably swimming in a paralizing and totally clinical depression, and that therefore my meds should be adjusted and also I should attend a weekly support group.
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I'll update when I get the chance to.
I have school so it will make it hard to but I'll try
❤❤Bye loves❤❤
