In high school, I was part of a highly competitive sports club, but I was one of the weakest members. My pride wouldn’t let me quit, so I kept thinking that if I just practiced enough, I’d eventually improve.
But things didn’t get better. Stress from conflicts with a senior, relationship drama, and gossip from others started to weigh on me. I began sleeping poorly and struggled to focus.
My mother, who had experienced mild depression herself, urged me to see a neurologist.
After starting medication, I felt more stable and began to think, “Maybe I’m not depressed after all.” In a misguided moment, I stopped taking the meds on my own.
A few days later, my condition crashed, and I had to leave school early.
When I told my mother I’d stopped the medication, she scolded me: “Depression is a brain illness. It’s not something you can overcome with willpower. You can’t just ‘think’ your way out of it. It’s like having a weak stomach or a weak heart—it’s a biological issue, a condition you’re born with. You need to accept that.”
Her words helped me come to terms with the fact that I’d been pushing myself too hard. With that realization, I committed to long-term treatment and eventually reached a point where I no longer needed medication.
※本記事は個人のうつ病体験談です。体験内容はあくまで個人の体験であり、医療アドバイスではありません。専門的なアドバイスを希望する場合は医師へ相談を。
※This article is a personal depression story. The content is solely based on personal experience and is not medical advice. Consult a doctor for professional advice.