"Have You Ever Seen the Rain"

"Yesterday, and days before,
Sun is cold and rain is hard,
I know; Been that way for all my time."

One of my highest ranking pet-peeves, ranking among cowboy hats, guys wearing pink shirts and Micheal Buble, is the improper use of words in the English language. I'm sure that would expand to other languages as well if only I were fluent in them but, alas, I am not. One such example of this misuse of words, and an example I take very seriously, is the common use of the word "depressed".
It seems "depressed" has gone the way of the word "mad". "Mad" correctly refers to insanity that usually results in violent and/or irrational actions. Some of these actions could also be the result of someone being angry. It was only a matter of time before the word began to be misused to the point its original definition is less common than its use as a synonym for "angry".
Now, just in case you were wondering "what do you know about being depressed?", your answer lies below.

I was first introduced to the word "depressed" through television. It was on a cartoon I used to watch in elementary school. Being one who enjoyed expanding their vocabulary, I quickly adopted it as a synonym for "unhappy" or "sad".
I was in the third grade when I'd used the word to describe how I was feeling that day. My teacher took note of this and, I suppose as a precaution, had me speak to one of the school administrators (Actually, I don't exactly know who she was. I'd seen her around before but never actually learned what it was she did.). She asked my a serious of questions which determined that I wasn't depressed. I was told not to use it so openly but not why. After that, I considered the word "depressed" a sort of taboo that I couldn't use unless I knew what it was. And after that discussion with Ms. She-whose-name-I-shall-never-remember I was very hesitant to ask about it. Besides, it was just one word. I was interested in expanding my vocabulary but so much that I'd go to great lengths to research it (especially in the third grade).
As I entered high-school, "depression" became a more common word. I'm sure there wasn't a week that went by when someone somewhere in school wasn't telling everyone how depressed they were. I 'd come to understand by then that it was just a dramatic and exaggerated way of saying that one was down in the dumps.
And yet, I began to wonder. A frequent enough topic on the news was the growing number of depressed teens. I knew that they must've been referring to the actual definition of "depression". By this time I'd achieved a better understanding of what depression was: The way I saw it, depression was a sickness; a type of brain malfunction that may or may not have been triggered by a saddening event or events. In any case, I thought "Meh, whatever! I'll bet no one at school is REALLY depressed."
It wasn't until senior year that I really understood what depression really was. I'd been going through great deal of rough patches with my parents the following year, coping with the idea of graduating grade school and entering real life, and rejection, regret and heartbreak. What I felt from all these was indescribable at the time. I was always tired, when before I'd have no problems waking early and paying attention in class. I began to eat excessively as if I were a bottomless pit or a Yoshi. Among other things, the thing stood out most to me was this ever-present melancholy that would sometimes give way to undeniable sadness. Even when I was making the effort to enjoy myself (and often enough, I was making an effort) I could feel the looming gloom hovering above my head.
I was doing everything I could to keep myself occupied with things I enjoyed doing. My friends and I were drama and sketch buffs and performed at 3 separate events that year, one of which was completely produced by us. I did really good job of staving off these feeling during the day, but every night it always the feelings always came back.
The idea had dawned on me that I was genuinely depressed, but for a long while, denied it. However, the mere idea of having depression sparked enough interest in the topic to research it quite extensively. The more I learned about it, the more I realized how serious this sickness was... this sickness I had.
I never told anyone about it back then. Eventually, I got through it though. I really have to thank my friends for getting me out of that rut. They don't know it but they were a vital reason I was able to recover from it all.
That and because of a one-in-a-million, fluke chance meeting I had while on vacation in the summer of 2006... that would also largely lead to my second and current bout of depression.

While going through my first bout, I'd hear people say "*Sigh* I'm so depressed." and think that it was an insensitive and ignorant use of the word. But as time has gone by, as I've gained more experience, as I've grown and matured, I've come to realize that depression, like countless other things in life, is something you have to go through to truly grasp. So, go ahead. Use the word (or any word for that matter) in whatever manner you wish. I just hope you never truly have to see the rain.