there are an awful lot of stories on this site, but every story is different right? the base feelings of despair are mixed into all of them, but how you came to be there and what you plan to do is always different. most of us are suicidal, hence the name “the suicide project” i suppose. i am no exception. but maybe it’s time i told the whole story of how i came to be here and what i plan to do.
my story is not filled with rape or abuse or anything like that. ive never been the loner at the back of the classroom, but ive never been popular. i was never the guy girls lusted after or the jock with all the friends, but i was never bothered by that. im almost always comfortable with who i am though of course there are instances where this is utterly false. while i am not on the extreme ends of the spectrum i am far from normal. im exceedingly nerdy and geeky and all of that. ive always found a source of pride in that label honestly. im a freshman in high school taking honors classes meant for juniors; i like to be challenged. i love knowledge more than almost anything, almost. (of course most of this is not relevant but i feel the need to include it anyway) the point is ive always been on the fringe, not really an outcast and not really very popular either. i liked it that way.
the depression started a mere two or three years ago. it feels so much longer than that now. ive always been one of the happiest and most easy going kids around; never scared to try anything. all of the sudden, somewhere in the beginning of seventh grade, that slowly started to change. i barely noticed, hell my parents barely noticed. the first time i really thought about it was when my close friends started to read it on my face. i started to notice it surrounding me more and more. a dark cloud of hatred for the world. as ive explained this was NOT me, not at all.
but life goes on whether you want it to or not so i just went with it. in elementary school i basically slept all day and kept perfect grades regardless. in middle school i opted into high school classes. i wasnt ready. the work hit me like a train. at this point i didnt know that i had ADHD and that with that comes an inability to initiate tasks. meaning i would stare at a piece of homework for hours but i couldnt bring myself to pick up the pencil. and when i did it took immense effort. my grades started slipping, i was distracted in class by depression and anxiety. soon i got the first “B” in my lifetime. it was a big deal to me. i realized that this was getting serious because every night i would stare at the homework on my desk and i couldnt do it, same with chores. even life itself became a chore i couldnt make myself endure. Â a few months later my grades were “D’s” and “F’s”. my mother expects only the best from me so the fighting started at that point. Â the fighting never stopped after that.
thats also when the anxiety attacks started. they feel like youre being stabbed in the chest and you cant help but curl up into a ball and hope to die. i get three of these every day of my life since then.
mom brought me to see a doctor and i was diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety disorders and depression. i started going to therapy and then i started to be put on different medications. it didnt take long for my therapist to realize this wasnt run of the mill teenage hormone depression. eventually the doctors diagnosed me with severe clinical depression and they tried to send me to mental hospital because im “at risk”. my mother wouldnt have any of that obviously.Â the doctors tried everything, as did i and so did my mother. i took every antidepressant available, i went on strange diets and even had acupuncture and hypnosis done. minimal success.
i lost hope. two years go by and i get nothing but worse. somewhere in there i start cutting. my relationship with my mother went to shit, i hated her and she hated me. she says ive made it all up for attention, to make her feel bad. that its not real. that hurt. my family are Catholics so i started getting talks from them about how i was letting the devil inside of me and that i was doing his bidding… i like to hope thats bullshit. six months ago i decided i was done. im exhausted every day from struggling to do simple tasks and to keep my mind under control. fighting yourself is a very strange feeling. id rather be in a physical fight any day. people i knew started distancing themselves from me out of disapproval or lack of understanding. so i put on a mask, a happy mask. thats what they wanted to see. suicidal thoughts plague me almost every second now. gnawing at the back of my head during the day. the nights are the worst, i dont sleep very often anymore because the nightmares are awful. im scared to get out of bed each day.
sorry i lost track of the ending of the story: right when im at the lowest ive ever been (god?) sends me an angel to get me through the worst. just a very extraordinary girl, thats all. shes brilliant, but no miracle by any means. suddenly life is just a bit better, i feel a bit more stable. im happy for the first time in a long time. she means the world to me, but as she learns of my depression ive noticed unsettling changes in her. i didnt realize until it was much to late what i was doing to her. her father told me he finds her crying all the time now, shes worried sick about me. she knows how close i am to the edge. too late i remembered the mask, “im fine” doesnt work on her like it does on others. i never got any better even though thats what i tell her and everyone else, im closer than ever before… a constant terror is always in my head. Â i cant tell people i know my story anymore. Â i get too attached and when they eventually leave it hurts too much. (i’ll go into what exactly happened between my mother and my family and i some other time. Â basically i was disowned, told i wasnt welcome in my house anymore)
i dont know what the future holds. im not sure i want to find out. the little happiness i have is slipping away from me yet again, i think god enjoys tormenting me. makes me wonder if i did something horrible in a past life. i dont like to think about the possibility of me being like this for the rest of my life. thanks for reading this by the way. i know it was long, and messy and not as serious as many others. its serious to me though. i know i could be worse off. doesnt change anything to think that way. i dont need pity nor do i appreciate it. so just dont ok? ive gotten too much of it lately.