I studied vocal performance and musical theatre in college. I once dreamed of singing with the Metropolitan Opera. My life was my music. I can sing a piece of music and get almost possessed by it. It fills my soul and flows through my veins. I literally sang all the time. But there was a time that I didn’t sing. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t fearful that time will come back. I used to judge how my day was by how much I sang. If it was a good day, I sang most of the day. If it was bad, I didn’t. When my first daughter was born depression took a strong hold on me for the first time. It came and went along with hypomania over the next 9 years. Each time a little worse than before. Each time it would make my anxiety a little bit worse. Then it came and decided it was going to stay for a while. I was more depressed over the next 4 years than I was hypomanic or stable. I would sing occasionally at the bar with friends, but it wasn’t the same. I never sang at home. It wasn’t until I hit rock bottom that the music came back. I was the most depressed I had ever been. I had no job, no money, no romance, and I lost touch with my best friend due to her illness. All I had was my kids. When the depression began to loosen it’s grip, I decided to make changes. I got rid of all the negative influence in my life. I got a part time job. I had to learn to make myself happy. When I was ready, I decided to start dating again. I met one person. He was the One. We married 9 months ago. I tell him he is my happy medication. It’s true he makes me very happy, but it’s because I make my own happiness that I sing again. I don’t know how long it will last, depression has a funny way of sneaking up on you, but for now, I have found my voice again. Once again, it fills my soul.