I’m sure you sent this with good intentions, but the fact that you’re taking what I write about and explaining it away as teenage angst and hormones is downright insulting. I’m not stupid enough to think that doesn’t factor into it, but I’m also very aware of the fact that thirteen of my mother’s brothers and sisters, including her, as well as all three of my fathers siblings have dealt with depression all their lives. Whether people want to believe it or not, the genetic disposition is there, and it’s likely that I’ll deal with this my entire life. It’s not going to just go away, even with all my trying. Depression has nothing to do with friends and exciting things. You can have everything in the world and still hate the fact that you woke up this morning. I’m glad you grew out of it, but please don’t assume that my problems are so petty as the equivalent of PMS.