So life has slowly been getting better, bit by bit. Which is good, because I don't know how much more I'd've been able to take.

The problem is that I haven't been getting better.

I tend to get a case of the blues during the summer. I need to have somewhere to go and things to do to satay happy. I thrive on an insanely busy schedule. So when I began feeling down earlier this summer, I figured that's all it was. Just and unusually bad case of the summer blues. No big deal.

Then I went to choir camp for a week. Sunday through Friday, I was surrounded by some of the funniest, happiest people I know. But I was still sad. I acted happy because I didn't know what else to do. And I was happy. But I was also sad. It was the strangest thing. I could be crying with laughter, but underneath my mirth there was a current of sadness. On Thursday night, this inexplicable sadness overwhelmed me, and Claire (who was my best friend and roommate) came out of the shower to find me curled up on the desk, sobbing. Obviously, she was worried and asked me what was wrong. I was unable to answer her.

Finally, I have given in. I asked my mom if I could see a therapist, and she agreed. I have denied, even to myself, that there is something wrong with me for far too long. After I realized that I am always sad, that I can barely get through the day, I decided I had to do something about it.