A new vaccine was developed to cure depression, I can no longer love anyone

Depression had been a relatively new diagnosis back in the 70’s, and since then, it had really started to plague the world. Theories from everything from things such as serotonin and dopamine deficiencies to having a chemical imbalance in your brain have been thrown around. Yet, no one seemed to know exactly why people had depression, or why some people seemed more depressed than others. <br><br>That was until 2050, the year the cure was found. I don’t know how they did it, but after years and years of research, a team of scientists finally nailed down a cure for depression. They created a vaccine that would effectively cure anyone with depression. There were some minor side effects, nothing to be alarmed about, and the vaccine was so effective that it even worked on people who were clinically depressed. <br><br>The world was a better place following the introduction of this cure. People were happy, even the ones who used to have depression. Suicide rates plummeted, and mental health really started to gain traction in our society. Before long, a lot of people had taken the vaccine, and the world was a brighter place. <br><br>The only thing that happened, not that it was a big deal anyway, was that people who took the cure couldn’t “love” anymore. It was a small price to pay for the end of depression, but it was something to note. <br><br>Love was such a strong word, and even I couldn’t understand what the concept of “love” even was. It was a feeling, a sense of something special towards a person in your life, be it a family member, a friend, or a significant other. To me, it was this strange feeling that I just couldn’t grasp. <br><br>I never took the cure. I found out that I was clinically depressed when I was 15. It wasn’t a surprise, I had always felt like there was a slight gray cloud in the sky whenever I was happy. I just couldn’t be happy, no matter what I did. I would go through the motions of school, and I had an overall miserable time most days. <br><br>I remember the first time I visited my school’s counselor, and she diagnosed me with depression. I remember sitting in the car, my mom driving me home, neither of us saying a word. I knew what this meant, I knew what the diagnosis would lead to. <br><br>I was sent to a therapist, who put me on some medication, something to help control my symptoms. I didn’t know what symptoms even meant, but it obviously wasn’t good. I didn’t want to take the medication, I didn’t want to go to therapy, most of all, I didn’t want to have depression. <br><br>I remember one time I was talking to my mom, I was crying, and I kept repeating “Why? Why can’t I be happy? Why can’t I just be normal?” She just looked at me, tears in her eyes, and said “It’s because you have depression, honey.” She was in denial, I could tell. It was one of the many times we fought. That all changed when I turned 18. The therapists let me make my own decisions when I became an adult. I took my mom with me, and I asked if there were any other options. <br><br>He looked torn for a second, glancing at my mom before answering. “There is another option.” He said. “There is a cure.” My mom gasped, and I looked at her confused. “What? No, that’s not possible. Is it?” He nodded, and my mom started to cry. <br><br>The cure turned out to be some new vaccine, something that was still experimental. It was simple, they just give you the shot, and your depression would be gone. I looked at my mom, who was still crying, before turning back to the therapist. “I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel nothing.” I said, and my mom looked at me, tears in her eyes. “But you won’t be depressed. Doesn’t that sound great?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to not feel anything. Emotions are a big part of life. I would rather be depressed than feel nothing.” She looked at me, then at the therapist, before standing up and walking out of the room. <br><br>After that, I never saw my mom again. She took the cure, and I never heard from her. I was alone, for a long time, anyway. I was 18, I rented a small apartment, and I went to school. It was hard, but I did it. I was actually happy, in a way. <br><br>That was until I met her. Her name was Sarah, and she was different from everyone else. She didn’t take the cure, and I didn’t know why, or how. But she didn’t. She was different, though. She would smile at me, she would hug me, and she loved me. <br><br>I don’t know how it happened, but we fell in love. I don’t know how to describe it, it was just something that I had never experienced. She brought light into my life, where there was darkness. She made days bright, and she made me laugh. <br><br>I loved her. I know I did. <br><br>I got a call, a couple weeks after we had officially started dating. It was from my mom. I hadn’t heard from her in years, but something compelled me to answer. “Hello?” I said, standing in my living room, looking out the window. “Hi,” The voice on the other end was familiar. It was my mom. “I, uh, I was wondering if you still lived in the apartment?” She said, sounding just as familiar as she had all those years ago. <br><br>I wasn’t sure why she wanted to know, but I told her anyway. “Yeah, I still live there.” There was something about hearing her voice that brought back memories, even painful ones. I don’t know why, but it made me want to cry. “I see,” She said. “I, uh, I might come visit sometime.” <br><br>“I don’t mind.” I said, and she hung up. I stood there in silence for a moment, before I heard a knock at the door. It was Sarah. “Hey,” She said when I opened the door. She smiled and hugged me. I hugged her back, before we sat in the living room. I looked at her, and I smiled. “Hey.” <br><br>This was my life now. Me, and Sarah, living our lives to the fullest. We loved each other, and we knew that. It was amazing, it was why I stayed strong, not letting my depression get the best of me. <br><br>I know I’ll be depressed for the rest of my life. I know I’ll never feel “happy.” But I have Sarah, and she makes my life worth living, even with depression. She is my light in the darkness, my beacon of hope in a hopeless world. I don’t know how I would live without her, and I don’t want to find out. <br><br>I’ll take my depression, as long as I have Sarah. <br><br>Note: Hey guys, thanks so much for my previous story, I didn’t expect it to get any attention, but it did, and it was amazing. This story is a lot more serious, and it’s something that I can relate to, I have depression, (not clinically) but I have it none the less. I want to preface this by saying I’m not against people who get the cure for depression, if that’s what you need to take, then so be it. I just wrote this from my perspective, I don’t want to take any sort of cure, even if it means I’ll have depression for the rest of my life. <br><br>Also, Hey /u/NobWitt, thanks for the gold, I appreciate it.