Accepting illness

I cry writing this, because i was fooling myself.

I was fighting it, this year when i read romanticism for lessions, about that depressed characters, i didnt wanted to relate to them so badly, i fought it so bad. I said to myself, it can not be me, i do chores, i have good grades, friends, it cant be me. I shouldnt have it because it is disrespectful for people with real illness, to call myslef that. I think quarantine woke me up, I stopped getting help during that time because I was afraid of truth. Every day i was trying so hard, to not accept it afraid of being jugded for something i do not have control over. I just wanted to belive im okay, that there is nothing to be afraid of, that im just being dramatic, that i should just go for a walk, or sleep better, and everything will be okay. Now I see how harmful shaming for feeling bad is, every second i breathe i choke on my words, but this sentence i will tell with conviction. I have depression.