That was the night I decided I was done. Done with everything. It’s been two years since that date. If you ask me about it, I will laugh at my own stupidity. But that night, I didn’t think it was stupid. I thought it was my only solution.

For the first time ever in my life, I had an angry vent where I threw everything in my room and screamed my ears off. For the first time in my life, I let everything out. I let all my frustration out. I was exhausted of not getting a chance to be bare and vulnerable without any costs.

I remember that night so vividly. I remember coming to my dorm room after shopping and receiving a series of texts, watching my social life crumble in front of my eyes all over again like high school when all I wanted was to start fresh. I remember after my breakdown, I went to the health center because my best friend forced me to through FaceTime. I remember coming back with no actual help that I decided there was no hope.

That there was no way out.

That night was long but at the same time fast. The series of incidents that occurred that night led one thing to another like a crazy rollercoaster. That night I told my mother, I was done with life, while she was doing a prayer for Diwali all the way in Saudi Arabia. That night I got saved and was taken to the hospital.

That night could have been the last night of my life. At the age of 18, I decided I was done.

I was diagnosed with Major Depression on October 22, 2014. I was then put into a behavioral center for 7 days because I had become a harm to myself and others. I was put into a place where I was clubbed together with the other “crazies” (something we like to call ourselves).

My first night there was cold and alone. I had never felt so scared in my life and helpless. I had never felt so mad at myself for letting go so easily in my life. I had never felt so lost than I did that night.

I had never imagined that I be a harm to myself.

A lot happened. I talk about it normally now like it was just a week of hell now two years later. I went on a medical leave to get better. I did intensive therapy for 1.5 years. I got out of major depression with a lot of help and willpower.

I remember going to orientation and hearing about being overwhelmed. I remember them talking about the option of medical leave and how I brushed it off so quickly, that I found myself in one just as fast. I remember how my life crumbled but I built it back up.

I grew. I changed. I am different. I am not the same. I am not Ritika from 2014.

The past does define me because it made me grow. It made me realize. It made me stronger. It made me healthy. It made me who I am Today.

Indian Chameleon’s Obiter Dictum for the Day
I know what it feels like to give in. I know what its like to gasp for air after drowning. Let me tell you, you only get stronger.