When sophomore Meilani Quilenderino cries, she doesn’t wipe away a single tear. Instead, she lets them spill from her hazel eyes, down her smooth skin, and across a mouth that for years was silenced by the severity of her teenage depression.

            “I would plot ways to kill myself. I would think about overdose and sitting in a garage and just letting the car run.” Although she never swallowed that handful of pills or started that engine, Quilenderino did begin to cut herself.

            In her bedroom and bathroom is where she chose to bleed. She would place a chair in front of the door so no family members or friends interrupted as she slashed the pale skin of her wrists and inner thighs using scissors, earrings and other sharp household objects whose presence, like her own, she assumed would not be missed.

            Yet the pain she inflicted upon herself with each drop of blood that spilled from her veins did not compare to the verbal abuse she received from the woman and little boy that existed only in her head. “They would tell me everything was my fault and I was worthless ... This lady was really starting to get to me, telling me to hurt my family and hurt myself.”

            Like the other 20 percent of teens in America who experience depression before adulthood, Quilenderino attempted to mask her condition with laughter and fake smiles like the ones she perfected in her teen beauty pageants.

It wouldn’t be until September of 2008, a full two years after her depression began, that her mom noticed the scars, bruises and lack of hygiene. “I didn’t care about anything anymore, not my grades, my friends, my hygiene, nothing. I went to school, then cheer, and when I got home, I locked myself in my room. My main focus was killing myself.”

Because her parents now realized how extreme their daughter’s condition was, they decided their little “Princess” would have to go back to Kaiser for a reevaluation. When Quilenderino could not commit to her safety contract, the doctor ordered she spend at least three days at Sierra Vista, a mental institute located just south of downtown Sacramento.

            “My eyes went wide as they began to water and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. My mom began to cry the saddest cry I have ever heard.”

            When Quilenderino arrived at the hospital close to 10 p.m., the other patients had just begun leaving the day room and settling into bed. “I had never been so scared in my life. I am someone whose personality consists of being gullible so I figured that I was going to be locked up with some real crazy people running around like in the movies,” Quilenderino said. “I just remember I stood behind my mom crying.”

            Quilenderino soon found, though, that she did not need the warmth and security of her mother’s arm to survive in the “cuckoo home.” Once a girl named Stephanie introduced herself, Quilenderino was able to release some of her anxiety and form relationships with peers who knew exactly what it was like to live a life consumed by depression.

            “It was really hard for me because I got really attached to these people ... It’s amazing how five days and six nights at a hospital with no daylight can change my life.”

            Because this was the first time Quilenderino did not have worry about the harsh realities of her life, she resisted returning to a world of pain, depression, and constant thoughts of suicide. “The day I left the hospital, I cried the whole way home. My mom was confused, not understanding why I was so sad to leave.”

The mother and daughter, who were once “best friends,” didn’t really talk about this painful adjustment, though. Instead when Quilenderino mentioned her pain, her mom would apologize or change the subject rather than consoling or providing a solution to her daughter’s problems. “She kind of thinks depression goes away overnight ... I don’t think this suicide thing will ever go away, but hopefully I can work with it.”

            Although Quilenderino still describes her life as “unexplainable and very bumpy,” she admits she is improving despite the constant reminders of the depression that plagued her past and threatened to take away her future.

            “I don’t want what happened to me to happen to anyone else ... We all have a reason to be here and someone does care.”