About two years ago, I started to realize that I was feeling very different. Being only 13, I didn’t really understand my feelings. I stayed locked up in my room when I wasn’t at school. I didn’t really talk to anyone. I wasn’t happy with my friends and I felt completely alone. I finally told my older sister that I was feeling “different” and she urged me to tell my parents but I didn’t have the guts too. I wrote them a letter explaining to them that I thought I was depressed and I wanted to go see a therapist. My parents quickly went to the therapist that my older sister used to go to. After about three sessions I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t like her, she focused more on herself, telling me stories about her family and how well her two kids were doing in college. After refusing to attend my sessions, my mom finally just cancelled them all. For the next couple months I didn’t go to therapy. I vented to my cousin who also had severe depression, and that just made me feel worse. I started to cut, a lot. The sad thing is, my parents never realized, and to this day they still don’t know. Then during the summer of going into eighth grade, the sadness went away. I was happier than I had been in a very long time.
Eighth grade came around, and my uncle died. And everything came rushing back, except worse. I started cutting even more, even deeper. I told my mom that I wanted to go to therapy again, but she kept putting it off. She would really only take care of herself and do things that only helped her. I asked her multiple times, and after my sister had to step in, she finally started looking. That year I learned that depression ran in my family. That only convinced me further that I had depression. During eighth grade I became really close with these two girls. I also started to actively smoke and drink. The only time I was happy was when I was away from my house, my parents, high or drunk as shit. I started to hate my parents because they never let me out. During the summer before freshman year, I was never allowed out. I stayed inside all day, and I was socially deprived. And my parents didn’t really seem to care. My mom was always at work, and my dad was always out, God knows where. My mom eventually found a new therapist and I really liked her. I trusted her and I told her almost everything. The only thing I left out, is that I cut and that I am very suicidal. When freshman year started, I became more rebellious, I went out without telling my parents, I got drunk and high on the weekdays and I went home drunk and high. I didn’t really care what my parents thought but at the same time I was terrified that they were going to find out. I became a very bad kid. I partied every weekend. I snuck out and slept out without telling them. A couple times they were very close to calling the police on me for “running away”. My parents treated me like shit. They didn’t really take care of me. I never really talked to them, I was barely home. Being at my best friends house felt more like home. I could talk to her mom about anything and I actually called her mom “mom”. I fought with my parents constantly and I was still extremely depressed. and they didn’t understand. They didn’t take the time to understand. They were only wrapped up in themselves. After many sessions with my therapist she diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder and depression. She told me I was unable to cope with my feelings and stressful events and that’s the times when I got extremely depressed. I started to get very suicidal. I was convinced that the easiest thing to do was to just end it all.
About four weeks ago, I finally got caught. My parents some how got a picture of me and my best friend with a bottle of alcohol and I found out that they stalked my twitter and my best friends twitter. After this happened my parents told me I was never allowed at my best friends house again. How can you do that to your own daughter? How can you keep her from one of the only people that make her happy? It’s like they want me to be miserable. They know I am, they don’t care. If they truly cared, they would let me see her. These past couple of weeks have defiantly been my lowest. I’m extremely depressed. I see no point in living. I was very close to committing the other day actually and I’m not exactly sure what stopped me. But I wish I had done it. On Friday I snuck out and they caught me. I slept out that night and when I came home on Friday they demanded to have my phone. I told them no and my dad put his hands on me. He shoved me and grabbed my arm very tightly. He pushed me against the wall and grabbed my phone from my grip. He then proceeded to say that I would never hold that phone in my hands ever again. I don’t think this story really describes how much I hate my parents, and how much I hate this house. I don’t think any amount of words can explain how much I hate them. They don’t take care of me and they make me feel like absolute shit. I’m miserable here. I’m seriously thinking about ending my life because I don’t see the point of living anymore.
Thank you to anyone that took the time to read my situation, I really appreciate it.
4 comments
Please reconsider this.
I understand what you feel with your depression and anxiety but please know that there is someone who will always care for you l, weather that be a relative, a best friend, or a stranger.
Life is beautiful and wonderful. Know that life will always get better.
I know that my words may not seem meaningful to you or not emotionally charged, but know that I mean it when I say that it will get better and that someone cares.
It sounds as if the only way your parents react is to isolate you and take things away from you. They don’t listen to you or give you support. I hope you’re still seeing the therapist you liked. If depression runs in your family, you are probably depressed and acting out to run away from being depressed. Unfortuneately, you can’t run far enough to escape what you carry inside.
If you can, throw yourself into you school work. An education is a great key to eventual freedom, and perhaps even finding something that interests you enough to take away depression for a time.
I wish you well. Good that you could write your post, get some of the poison that hurts you out.
One more thing . . . . Please be careful around drugs. There are some poisonous mixtures out there these days. Meth is horrible! Unless you like to watch your teeth fall out. Alcohol can leave you more depressed the next day. The best drug for most is pot. It helped me greatly with anxiety during the late 60s, early 70s. That said, it’s not for everyone. Our bodies react differently to the same drugs. A downside of pot is that it can inhibit your ability to do well in school, make you too lethargic.
Don’t cut, I know its hard but it’s not healthy. Talk to your parents about it, I’m sure they are just worried about you. Drugs and alcohol aren’t the solution either. I know how alcohol makes you feel and I know from a friend that being high is good but it is going to kill you. Don’t commit either. Imagine your parents walking in and finding you dead, or worse, imagine your sister finding you. Imagine them having to tell people that you are dead. Imagine them at your funeral. Imagine your mum drinking away her days. Imagine your dad as a workoholic. Imagine your sister becoming just like you. I know this isn’t helping but this is what will happen if you carry on like you are. S