my story

i was 15 going on 16 (this happen in October 2008) when i lost my great grandpa. i never met my grandparents, either set, so my mom’s grandparents were the only ones i ever met. my great grandpa died of cancer that October & i never knew until the day it happen. he never told me, no one did. and i understand why, i had been extremely close to him & it truly did break my heart when he died. i had been a freshman in h.s at the time & it had happen a week before my birthday. i don’t remember my freshman year at all. it’s almost as if there was a haze after he died to protect me from hurting. 7 months later in May of 2009 i made my first suicide attempt. i had fought the haze, but i knew if i broke away completely i would be in pain. i had seen no other way to escape, my only thought then was ‘let the pain stop’ because the haze wasn’t able to block out all the pain. although it blocked out a decent portion. i never got over his death, i still hurt from it everyday. i know suffer from severe clinical depression & i think bipolar disorder & anxiety. which is very difficult to deal with. i’ve attempted suicide a number of times, but they were before i was diagnosed with the mental illness i suffer from. before i was diagnosed i cut, not horribly & at first not my wrists. i was always walking through the woods for exercise & had thought oh well a few cuts on my legs and no one will no notice -i was right no one did. but as time went on i became more depressed & moved on to cutting my wrists. i still i have tiny scars from when i did this. i also (before i was diagnosed) jumped off the wall i live near onto rocks. i ran away from home 1 night and cut my wrists and neck apart.. when my dad finally found me after a few hrs i was admitted to a hospital & it probably saved my life. i went to therapy but ended it after only a few months..
i fear never being able to have a good relationship with my mom.. she doesn’t understand about my illness & definatley doesn’t understand about my feelings. i think in her mind she sees me as ”crazy” & that’s not what i am. i’ve lived with depression since i was 13 i’m now 18 & she has yet to understand or even attempt to learn about my illness. i think it scares her to have her oldest daughter diagnosed with a mental illness. in my eyes it seems that she thinks people with a mental illness like clinical depression (like me) are crazy or in a nicer term different.i only survived that night because my best friend saved me, she carried me to her house & called 911. i owe her my life♥