I was initially misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder, although a few years later i was told that it was not in fact bipolar disorder, but severe depression, and bipolar disorder is very difficult to diagnose in young patients. I was put on medication for this while still in high school, but i hated it and chose to go off of it very quickly. i didn't tell my family i wasn't taking it anymore, because that was a condition of them letting me back in their house afte they had kicked me out. Later in high school, my psychiatrist told me that he believed that i had so much trouble iwth the medication because i wasn't actually bipolar, only depressed, and knowing me longer and seeing my cycles he could tell this. I initially chose not to go on medication for the depression because i felt like it would make me a fake happy, and wasn't what i wanted. I was uncomfortable wtih the idea of medication and decided to just do the best i could with my depression. Freshman year of college i was the most miserable i'd ever been. I lost 55lbs from January to April, and should have gained self confidence but was just more unhappy then ever. Then one night, i was doing a shift on the ambulance, and we got a call for an 18 y/o male overdose. It ended up being one of my best friends in the world, who had attempted suicide. This scared me more than anything-- I was so afriad that this would be me if i continued to refuse medication, and i just couldn't do that to my friends. I finally went on medication, and it was definitely hard in the beginning, i did feel kind of zombie-ish, like i had very little control over my emotions. But with time and alterations in dosages, it began to help me a lot. My grades went up, because i was able to get out of bed every morning and start going to classes, doing my work, going out with friends, and being essentailly normal. If it wasn't for going on medication, i highly doubt that i would have been able to finish college or be where i am now.