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I decided to stop seeing my psychologist two months ago. For three years, I sat in her plush, concrete-grey chair, deciphering my troubled childhood and picking apart the way I am living my life now. She never gave me a reason to stop turning up but I always felt like a fraud. I used to think I was my therapist’s cushiest patient; the one who was only depressed because she had lost her job. I wasn’t a crack-addict, I didn’t beat my mother, I wasn’t  a compulsive alcoholic, and although I had entertained thoughts to end my life, I knew deep down I’d be far too chicken shit to follow through with it. So why the hell was I there?

I was ravenous for affirmation; hungry for my parents’ approval and validation; and most of all, I was terrified of failure. I was a product of my upbringing – to be the model child or else I wouldn’t be loved. So I learnt very quickly to adapt and assimilate, just like my parents felt compelled to when they arrived in Australia as asylum seekers some 30 years ago. From the moment I came out of my mother’s womb, I was born into a culture that never admits failure and defeat, work tirelessly to the bone, and to never, ever, bemoan my life, because I’m as lucky as they come.

For those 36 months that I sat cross-legged in that chair, I was able to answer as many questions as I had asked myself. Why am I my own harshest critic? Why is it so easy for me to feel disappointed in myself? Why did I make work my life? And why do I do everything in my power to not let my parents down?

Finding answers to all of these things have finally led me to my lightbulb moment. And it was the most incredible feeling.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I can stand firmly on my own two feet. And although I have forgotten what it’s like to be depressed, I know that it will always be a part of me. It will never leave, and I will never deny that I had once hit rock-bottom.

But you know what? I have finally, finally broken free from these shackles. I wake up in the morning now and look forward to what’s ahead of me – the places I’ve stuck around for, the people I will meet, the friends I will make, the things I will achieve, and the lessons I will learn. For next time.