I thought, “I will be dealing with this for the rest of my life.” It was demotivating and distracting, so much so that I struggled to remember basic things—things like eating and taking my meds. I felt like I was falling into depression again, and the signs started to appear. Nightmares, an inability to keep track of time, a lack of focus, and an unshakeable lethargy became my new normal once again.

I wanted so desperately to prove the doctor wrong. I wanted to be so on top of the world despite his advice that I could go back and say, hey, I’m so mentally healthy that you have to let me stop taking my meds. But my neglect to take them consistently and the accompanying downward spiral I was on showed me how much I needed to shift my perspective.

It took me a while to see my doctor’s words as he intended them: Happiness and stability aren’t going to come from pretending to be rid of my depression but rather from being realistic about it so I can manage it proactively. I wanted to look at my depression like a cold—treat it and it’s done. But the last few months reminded me that my depression could pop back up, uninvited and crippling. It was a tough realization, but I’m better and stronger because of the awareness of that reality.