“Where does depression hurt? Everywhere. Who does depression hurt? Everyone.”

Growing up, we had a set of VHS tapes that my grandma had recorded ‘commercial TV’ on for us. Sometimes, we watched the commercials for the pure novelty of it. My parents were careful to keep us away from commercials in general and we exclusively watched channel nine where the only commercial was for juicy fruit 100% juice, so my introduction to standard commercials came a little later than most children.

There was a specific Cymbalta commercial that stuck out to me at the time. Me and my sister would always giggle at the commercial since it was so dramatic. The words, “where does depression hurt?” highlighted with images of people unable to enjoy their day to day life and the drama of the responses of “everywhere” and “everyone”. My favorite part was where the dog tries to get the depressed man to play, bringing a tennis ball to his lap.

As a nine year old, this commercial was my entire understanding of depression. Something that made it so moms didn’t want to play with their children, families ate at tables in silence, and dogs were left hanging, with no one to throw the ball for them. It was a very feeble introduction to the world of depression and those coping with depression.

Watching that commercial or at least a similar one twenty one years later, it doesn’t make me giggle. Instead I look at those people with a whole new world of understanding. I see the man unable to play with his dog and my heart remembers someone refusing to leave the house, preferring to stay on the couch inside all day. I see the children playing and I’m pulled to moments where I saw the pain in his eyes even while he tried to put on a smile around nieces and nephews. I see the family eating dinner in silence and think of the meals I ate where it felt like I was alone in a room, even though someone else was there.

I don’t have the fun loving optimism of a nine year old anymore, because I have lived with depression. I have lived with someone consumed by this disease. I have lost someone in the darkness of disorder.

Where does depression hurt? Everywhere.