First Post here…

I thought by coming across a site like this would enable me to actually be able to rant about something, anything, so that my mind would be clear for a moment. But sitting here, typing this out, I’m struggling with how to put into words something which might catch someone’s attention who may be going through something similar. Someone I can relate to. The majority of people on here I suppose will all have similar background stories or specific tragedies which crossover with someone else’s, and so a relationship forms as these crossover people discover each other and help. My issue is; despite knowing the simplicity and seemingly insignificant of my life as an individual, I can’t help but feel as though there will be few people who may fully understand the way I feel.

I reiterate a lot of stories on here may be similar or at least have certain aspects that are similar to another. However, my own is not particularly interesting nor tragic enough to attract sympathy or empathy, which I implore you I do not seek at all. I simply mean that my circumstances do not appear to be so obvious that it should attract that unwanted attention.

Some background then; my mother was but seventeen when I was born, my biological father left some few months after, and to my knowledge has at least half a dozen other children with different women, there is no communication between myself and his family and quite frankly I don’t wish to see him. My mother married some years back now, and I suppose the relationship I have with my step-dad is somewhat substantially better than that of with m “father”. He is, despite this, quite an overruling, old-fashioned man, and in that he sticks to early curfews and keeping my bedroom door open whenever a boy happens to visit me. Other than normal adolescent frustration, nothing significantly bad has ever urged me to dislike him any more than normal for a seventeen year old girl. My mother continues to this day to do anything and everything she can for me, and I know she means well whenever she still treats me as if I’m twelve again.

Regarding school; it’s still a tough time. Everyone says sixth form is better but it’s not. There are fewer people but that doesn’t erase the problem. It was tough growing up, I was never a girly girl, I don’t like things that would be classed as girly. I was always interested in cars and bikes; I had a quad before an actually bicycle. I loved going to watch the rugby with my grandad and having fires and camping, I loved fishing and building things and I went to an MMA class, I was competing in swimming competitions against older kids before I hit teenage years. But, as I got older I lost confidence, as every girl does once she hits puberty. But somehow it seemed to hit me worse than everyone else. Because I was hospitalised for a while when I was 11/12 and then again when I was 13, I gained weight, not of my own doing, but due to going from constantly being on the go and doing exercise almost every night, to being bedridden and not being able to walk. This hospitalisation was at the beginning of the start of secondary school, and so I never made proper friends until I was about 14/15. Even then I hung with the wrong crowd, not in the sense that they did bad things, they just weren’t very nice people. Once I hit sixth form I gained one good friend, and she’s stuck with me so far, but she’s the only one I have. I’ve tried talking to her about how o feel before but she doesn’t get it, and that’s fine.

During year 11, I began a sudden relationship with a boy. Everything was fireworks at first, but he had certain anger issues. He came from a broken home so I guess his problems weren’t all self influenced. He left a couple bruises on me, nothing substantial. But after we broke up, he began to try and follow me, he was quite the control freak and possessive boyfriend when I was with him so I wasn’t surprised. One night, at a house party, I spent all night with him. He was drinking vodka and I was completely sober, after he turned up I had lost all want for alcohol. He tried to convince me to go back to him. I refused, and he took it bad. He told me he was going to kill himself unless o went back. I probably should have, but I still refused and he disappeared. He’s still alive, but I think that was when the depression really began to show within myself.

That same night I met the boy I’m with to this day. He’s not perfect but I love him, and I think he loves me. I’ve tried talking to him as well, but he just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand that when I’m sad, I don’t always know why. Or when I’m angry, it’s not at him, it’s with me. It’s not his fault I’m like this, he just doesn’t get it.

So now onto my actual.. Issues I guess. I have the usual symptoms, I know I’m depressed, I’ve accepted that. But I can’t tell anyone. My parents both laughed in my face when I told them how I felt once. They thought I was joking and being stupid. Mainly my stepdad to be honest. He thinks anyone who admits depression wants attention. He would never accept me if I told him. My one friend tries but she can only help so much. My boyfriend doesn’t even try to help, he’s given up. Whenever I tell him I’m sad he just says “go to sleep, you’ll be fine tomorrow”, which as logical as that is; it’s not helpful at the time. I have been known to self harm, but never visible when I wear clothing that shows more skin than usual. I’m discrete in how and what I do. I’ve written notes when I’ve wanted to leave before, just to end everything. In all honesty I do every night almost. I plan everything and have every intention of carrying it out. What sometimes helps is making a pros and cons list. Stupid I know, but each to their own method of coping.

i know I don’t sound like the typical person perhaps to write on here, but trust me when I say to open up to even this much is a step in the right direction to specifically finding what’s wrong with me. I know the basic problem but there’s some underlying issue I can’t quite reach when I think about it. It’s hard to open up publicly like this, but I’m hoping to find some solace in anything anyone says regarding this post. I’ll write some more each day and try to explain in more detail and in better wording how I feel. But I’ve never been very good at doing that so I’ll see how it pans out. I hope someone out there is in a similar situation because I can’t keep going. No one knows and no one understands. I can’t tell anyone and no one can find out. There’s only so much I can hold in before it all just explodes. I hate this feeling though I can’t quite describe it. But if I had to choose one word I’d say… Emptiness.

Thank you for reading, have a nice day/night 🙂