Hello my fellow SP users, this is your neighborhood unlicensed, untrained, and not so neighborly therapist. I hope some of you may remember my post from a while back. If not let me refresh your memory, it was an explanation of addiction and depression and other mental disorders such as OCD. I never told you all my story. The first time I can ever remember being suicidal was when I was ten years old or so, my brother and sister had been picking on me and my mom had yelled at me for it, I felt like hell and I wished desperately that the issues I had with breathing when I was first born would’ve killed me. I stayed away from that and those kinds of behaviors until my addiction began in sixth grade. I have both OCD and depression, which I take medication for, mostly the medications for the OCD because the OCD won’t let me let go of the memories of my addiction. I hated myself and was caught by my mother for the first time in my life in the act of watching a pretty screwed up video in May(no I was not jerking off) and she screamed at me that she was disgusted with me and what I was doing, and who I had become. I remember saying something about how I wish I was dead so I’d never have to deal with this pain again. I got all of my access to the internet revoked, which in this day and age kinda screwed me over, and I wasn’t allowed to change, help dress, or take my three year old sister to the bathroom. She said it herself that she was worried about me becoming some kind of child molester or sex offender of some kind. This was extremely damaging to me and I still haven’t gotten over that particular ordeal. I spent the next few months in a peaceful bliss. Just kidding guys, I was in a hell of my own making, I couldn’t even bring myself to hold or look at my baby sister because I was so worried of becoming the kind of person my mom suspected I’d be. Then around November I found the password and username for my brother’s laptop, which I originally intended to use for casual web surfing, but that turned out to be my downfall and I instead used it to access my addiction. I don’t remember the specifics of how I was caught or when, but it was nearly as scarring as the first incident. I was put on a strict probation, but of course, junkies find their ways around those things, and I was back to the old grind in less than a month. I was able to live with this and not get caught for months until the summer of seventh grade came and I spent most of it with my father who lives in small town Iowa, I spent a good amount of my summer alone at my house doing nothing because I didn’t have a phone yet, too much debate on that subject. So most of the summer I felt alone and lonely. It temporarily let up when for my twelfth birthday my dad bought me a tracphone, which was to only be used at his house. The ending of that short little period of happiness and relief was gone almost as fast as it had come, and I was l on my knees in my room contemplating what pills I should use to kill myself with while my cousin frantically begged me not to commit suicide. I ent up chickening out at the last moment, so I made it through the majority of eighth grade without major issues, just a worsening sense of pain and hell. Then spring break came and my cousins and I spent the night at my grandmother’s house, and unintentionally I looked at my female cousin’s ass for a second(She’s the one who talked me out of suicide) and was noticed by my male cousins who made fun of me relentlessly for it until I took refuge in an empty room. There I wrote my first note, the first thing that could be considered written history of my depression. Of course she talked me out of it again, and I went on living my life for a time. Then, a few months later I was in my room with a bottle of pills and no phone to save me, I stared at the pills for a long time, but eventually I went into the bathroom and flushed them. I went to my mother seeking help for my depression and she got me to the doctor’s as soon as possible, he prescribed me a small dose of anti-depressants as a trial dose. I survived the summer with a lot of effort on mine and the pill’s part. I came to my dad’s near the end of the summer to attend school here for the first year ever, and I went to the first week of school with only one friend, a fellow new freshman. That’s really the end to my story so far, please comment so I can maybe get some help.
Thanks for reading,
yours truly,
A Confused 14 Year Old Kid