Since apparently this is story time, Ill add one of mine
The first signs of my depression started in 8th grade. I went on a ski trip with my friend and her family and another friend of mine. Halfway through the trip, for no reason, I just didnt want to talk to them at all. They were my best friends and I just hated them and I didnt even know why. I avoided them and everyone else for the rest of the trip and eventually went home. That week was when I first started having my depressing thoughts, it was like a short trial of everything I would feel later on. I managed to pick myself up and be almost completely normal for the rest of the year. Then freshman year of highschool came and the year started fine. The funny thing was that the entire time, I thought I was fine , happy, but I later realized I wasnt. I talked about killing myself so casually, like it was a logical answer to all problems and that more people should do it, its an escape and you never have to worry about it afterward, since you're gone. At the beginning of March, I don't really know what happened. I had just gotten back from a
really fun trip in Chicago with my mum and I was able to hang out with my friends and have fun. But something wasnt right, I was scared of living, I thought it was never going to get better. I told my therapist,( I still dont know if I should have done that but I did) and one thing lead to another, I was being driven off to the emergency room to wait for placement in a mental hospital. My mom cried a lot and I honestly felt like stuff for making her think it was all her fault(of course I didnt actually say that, she came to that conclusion on her own), but it wasn't true. She was so nice to me when I was there. She brought me nice food and spent the entire night there, sleeping in a chair. I cant imagine how hard that must have been for her, to feel like everything you did for your child in the end made them want to kill themselves. The next day they got me into a mental hospital an hour away. I had to go alone in an ambulance but my mom followed the ambulance so she could see me when I got there. Ill just summarize my stay at the mental hospital since this is already getting long. I met a lot of people there, and I was instantly connected to them because they knew what I had gone through. And what one girl said to me, that changed my life. I never understood how much a person could mean to someone until I felt that way about someone else. I then understood how much everyone I knew cared about me, and in the same way I felt about these people at the metal hospital, not wanting them to ever get hurt. They also put me on meds there, which I still take. I thought I was so much better, I didnt want to kill myself or do something else stupid, but then something else came up. I felt like I hurt people, and that their lives would be better without me. I punished myself by cutting my wrists and other parts of my body. I thought that with the pain I caused other people, I deserved to hurt myself and have scars to prove it, to almost shun myself. I had a lot of cuts all over and up my arms, and I realized that it wasnt okay. I told my mom and she freaked out. I still feel like I shouldnt have told her. I told her I would stop, and I did for a while. But I realized I would only stop when I felt I had stopped hurting other people. So I carved their names into my legs, to remember the pain that I had caused them. I realized that I wasnt happy, that cutting and hating oneself is not normal , let alone a sign of happiness. So I went back to the mental hospital. I Waited in the emergency room but this time things were different. My parents hated me. They felt like I was unappreciative and they refused to take any blame for how I was feeling. My mom didnt stay by me this time. She left for most of the time and when she was there, she only made me feel worse. I eventually got transfered to a mental hospital(a different one from before) and I met a lot of people there, too. I think everyone there didnt believe I needed to be there. When my parents visited me they told me I had to return to regular high school, rather than the independent study I was on that I thought would help. They told me that since whatever they were doing before didnt work; they had to do something different. But what they did do was terrible. They took everything I had left that made me happy away. I went home and yeah, things were a lot diffferent. But I didnt cut anymore and I wasnt in any relationships where I hurt people. I managed to make it through the rest of the year. But the things I learned were to not get emotionally attached to people, because I end up hurting them and then I feel their pain for everything that goes wrong with their life. I was a lot better over the summer, I didnt have school which usually makes things better. I recently had a relapse and started cutting again. I forced myself to believe that it was a special interest ( I dont know if you've seen my posts about that) and that made me feel better. I refused to believe that it was because I was unhappy. Now I'm a little better and I think Im improving, but I have to remember that it's never going to entirely go away, Its something Ill have to live with for a realy long time, if not forever. But each time I learn something new. Things that I do now, while they may not make me happy, they dont hurt me. Maybe Ill eventually be strong enough to stop being so protective of myself and do things that I really want to do. But for now I just have to prevent a relapse and falling even deeper in that hole of depression.
Sorry if this has typos or somethig, Im on
my iPhone
