Happiness...or lack thereof.

I don't remember the first time I was depressed. I'm assuming I was very young and didn't really know what I was feeling. I do, however, remember the first time I could verbalize it. Not to anyone other than myself of course, but express it nonetheless.

I was a sophomore in college. I had been hanging out with some friends in their dorm room, and realizing the time, decided to walk back to my room. I had a general rule in college that I would not walk across campus alone once it was dark out, but for some reason I refused to let anyone walk with me that night. I stuck to the sidewalks and streetlamps, but still had a feeling of uneasiness. It wasn't the solitude, though. In fact, if anything, I'm glad I was alone.

I don't remember what was on my mind, or if I was thinking about anything at all, but for some reason, I introspectively asked myself if I was happy. And then it happened. For the first time in my life, I burst into spontaneous, uncontrollable tears. I didn't have to answer my own question, for my body language said it all.

As if being watched, I quickly stopped walking and tried to pull myself together. I wasn't anywhere near the point of asking myself why I wasn't happy or even trying to figure out how to change my state of unhappiness, but I did for the first time realize that something was wrong. Something made me ask the question, and something made me answer - well, cry.

While it wasn't the first time I had dried my own tears, it was the first time in my life I had an idea of why I was crying. I wasn't happy. In fact, I was definitively unhappy.

I walked back to my dorm and to be honest, have no recollection of the events that immediately or subsequently followed. I just remember that particular event: the first time I asked myself if I was happy and the first time I honestly answered myself. Unfortunetly, I would ask myself that question many times in the years following, and until only recently, have I been able to answer with anything other than "no."