By Hannah Ribbens via UN Online Volunteers
I have always wanted to be in the military. It has interested
me for years, and I came so close to joining multiple times, but it was never
the quite the right time. Now that I am finishing my masters degree in public
health, I thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to serve my
country and go on an adventure.
In addition to finishing up my masters and moving across the
country, I also discovered that I needed to be on anti-depressants. I had been
struggling with depression for a solid ten years, but I didn’t understand until
recently that other people didn’t feel that way; after ten years of dealing
with it, how was I to know that the way I felt wasn’t normal?
Getting on proper medication was a game changer for my life.
I used to wake up every day and push myself so hard just to get anything
accomplished. I no longer struggle to do all of the things that I do and
projects I want to accomplish. Before I would desperately want to meet up with
friends and go for a run or play volleyball, but it so overwhelming.
I feel
like I am the person I was meant to be. I never had a difficult time accepting
the fact that I needed anti-depressants because the problem is simply
biological. To me it was the same as the fact that I need to take iron
supplements to donate blood.
So, here I am feeling on top of the world and excited about
the future and possible adventures, and I contact the local military recruiter
to discuss my joining the army. We meet at a coffee shop, and the recruiter
seems very friendly and knowledgeable. I bring out my list of questions before
I remember that I should probably ask about their policy on medications. The
conversation was over almost before it began. There is a rule that you have to
be off any medications like the one I was taking for a year before the army
considers letting you join.
I was crushed. I had never before felt embarrassed that I was
on anti-depressants, but now I felt like I was damaged; incomplete. I lived with
depression for ten years before getting help; I know that I am trustworthy, and
yet I was told that I couldn’t get a security clearance in my condition. “My
condition”? I felt broken. I felt as if the recruiter was looking at me
differently, and that he thought of me as fragile.
Sometimes it is still tempting to wallow and feel sorry for
myself, but I know better. I know that I lived with depression for ten years
while moving multiple times, getting myself through college and graduate
school, and having my parents divorce. I know that I am strong and capable. My
medication just makes it easier to be so.
I know that Marilyn Monroe said that
imperfection is beauty. I know that what on the surface appears to be a
weakness is often a strength. I have come to realize that although there is
often a social stigma against depression, it simply means that I am unique,
strong, and have specific talents that I can use to help others.
I refuse to let my need for medication define me. I am a
strong, wonderful person, and I will use my unique talents to share, and not
shame, other wonderful, unique people.
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