So, I have been on here multiple times before. I started this account when I was 14, I think. What most of my friends in my real life don’t know about me is my struggle with myself. Sometimes it’s hard to explain to people that you hate yourself, physically and mentally. If they aren’t going through the same struggle that you are, it’s hard for them to understand why or how someone would feel this way. So, this is my only real outlet. Sometimes just looking at the comments of other people trying to lift me up makes it easier to get through the day ahead. None of my friends or family know that I am on here, and none of them ever will. I have been dealing with depression basically on my own for the past 10 years, and I will continue to fight this battle without anyone else being drug down with me. The ironic part about this site: I found it when I was looking up ways to kill yourself. Instead, I found the support system that I needed, but didn’t know. I still have bad days, when nothing can make me feel better about myself, but most days, I can find at least one good thing to keep me going. I seek that stability, that I’ve always had, but feel like I am slowly losing. I lost my boyfriend, I am starting to isolate myself from my best friends from home, my best friend at college is leaving next semester, and my sister is 2 hours away from me. I don’t feel stable right now, which is why I am back on here. I am trying to find stability and security, and this might be it.
I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and depression when I was 11 years old. Yes, 11. When I look back on my life, I realize that at that point, I didn’t have the same adolescent years as everyone else. I wasn’t a carefree kid anymore, I was an adult in a child’s body. When my first panic attack happened, I thought I was dying, that this was the end. In 6th grade, I lost over 20 lbs. I started at 90 lbs, and was nearly skin and bones by the time I figured out how to cope with what was happening to me. I was naive, I thought it would all go away after that first round of panic. My hope was that I would be fine if I could just get it under control now, which makes me stupid. I gained back the weight, I had enough time to turn into me again, relatively. And then it hit again. My freshman year of high school, the panic attacks started to come in again, and become more frequent. I lost 20 lbs. again, which I had thankfully gained back since 6th grade, and became tiny again. I lost all of my childhood, again. All of my happiness was taken away, and I remember thinking that this was a life I didn’t want to live. I didn’t think I could handle another round of panic and anxiety, so they put me on medication to try and ease the symptoms. At age 14, I already thought that suicide was the option for me. I was still a child, and I thought that there was no hope for me. I eventually got better, but was constantly scared that it would happen again. And then it did, 6 months ago. I remember calling my mom in the middle of the night and telling her that I couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t handle the toll this took on my body and mind again. I went back to the doctor and a therapist, and my doses were upped. I was given something to calm me down if I ever felt like I was going to have a panic attack. My life was pulled out from under me again. I was drowning, and this time, I had almost lost hope. I started dating someone, a very sweet guy, who thought would always be there for me. But then he left too, and my life felt like a lie. I felt like I couldn’t do anything, like my life was worth nothing. I am here, I am trying to cope. My life was taken from me when I was 11, and small parts of me keep getting taken, parts that I don’t think I can ever get back. Parts that made me the person I was then, not the person I am now. I am not me anymore, I am someone else in the shell of the old me. I look like I did, but I will never feel the same again. I am a 19 year old whose childhood was ripped out from under me, and whose personality will never be the same as it was before. I can never be ok again. I can never be me again, and that scares me more than anything else. That one day, after the depression wins, I won’t have any parts of the old me left. I will never feel whole again, and I may never find that same happiness that was taken from me 8 years ago. I may be a privileged white girl, I may look like I’m happy. I may smile, and laugh at small jokes. I may go to parties, and pretend like I’m having fun. But on the inside, I’m really just sad, and I’m not sure that will ever end. So yes, depression ruined my childhood, and continues to ruin my life now, but I will not give up the fight until I hit the point where there truly is nothing left. When I know that there is nothing for me anymore, when I know that last little bit of happiness is finally gone.
Hi. I feel like I can’t breath, like my world is caving in around me. I don’t want to get out of bed, but I have so much work to do. I don’t want to eat, but I know I should. I feel fat and lonely. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I just want to curl up in a ball and never get back up. Sometimes I want to die, sometimes I want to live, if only to experience what life has to throw at me. Sometimes I want to know what I could become later in life. Sometimes I don’t want to be around to see the hell my life could become. I don’t know if I can handle all the pain anymore. I want to keep going, but I don’t know if I can. Maybe I don’t know if I even want to keep going. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anything anymore.
To all those who are struggling, I have been in the same shoes. I live through the pain every day, and I know that it seems like it can never get better. I can tell you about my experience, my attempt at suicide, the multiple suicide notes I have hidden in my room, the times I have come to this website to find solace, but unless you believe in yourself, there’s not much I can do. So you have to remember, that even in your darkest hours, there are people out there who care about you. There is someone who will miss you if you are gone. There is someone who doesn’t want to see you suffer. There is someone who loves you, even if they have never said those exact words.
I believe in you. I believe that you have the ability to live another day, even if it’s only one, it might be the day that everything changes. Again, I can believe all day, in myself and others facing these paralyzing struggles. But you have to believe too, and I think in everyone, there is that small glimmer of wanting to live. So find that glimmer, find that light in the dark, and hold onto it for as long as you need. You never know what your life may become, you never know who you might meet, or what could be the moment your life shifts. So, until that day comes, hold onto the light, cause the end of the tunnel is near, and you can make it out.
I’m back. It’s been a while, a long time actually. I’m in college now, and I love it. It’s the most stress inducing experience ever, but the people here make it worth it. I was doing so good, but depression never really goes away, does it? I just don’t have the energy to do anything anymore. Getting out of bed is a daily struggle, eating makes me nauseous, and I cry over the most mundane tasks. I feel like I’m drowning, and I know all I have to do is swim up, but something is holding me down. I’m being pulled back into a tug of war with my own emotions, and I can’t quite figure out how to win.
I used to drink to numb the pain, but now my liver is so messed up I’m not even allowed to do that anymore. I have people here that will listen to my rants, but I feel like they don’t really understand. They don’t know what it feels like to pretend to be happy all the time. They don’t know that I force myself to laugh when I’m supposed to, because I haven’t actually laughed in years. They don’t know that all the smiles I give them are hiding what is happening in my brain. They don’t know, and I can’t make them understand.
My best friend is 600 miles away from me, and we have fallen out of touch. He made me feel safe. My parents are 75 miles away from me, but they never really knew about any of this anyway. They made me feel like I had something to hold on for. My sister is 100 miles away, she used to say my panic attacks were a cry for attention, until she saw me have one. She made me feel like I had someone I could trust. They are all still there, and I know that, but sometimes I just feel so alone.
I’m back, and I’m trying my best to stay positive, and survive. But sometimes I just think “why?” Why am I trying so hard? Why am I not dead yet?
Three years ago, I started this account. Three years ago, I posted my first rant. Today, I’m back. It’s my last day of school. I should be happy, right? Wrong. My friends are all doing something without me, the one person I have always loved isn’t talking to me right now, and my parents don’t care enough to come make sure I’m ok. I’m lost. Somehow, I thought since I had made real friends who loved me that I would be happy. I’m just more depressed than I have been in a long time. Somehow, I thought cutting ties with my best friend would make me feel better. That was dumb. I have no one to go to. I have no one who wants to listen to my problems, and I have no one I hate enough to make them carry me as their burden. I don’t know what I’m doing, or why I’m even still here. Why am I breathing? Why am I not dead yet? I could really use an answer to that question right now, cause I really don’t know anymore.
So, this is me.
I have been off this site, and away from the pain for almost a year. And then I met a new person. Someone who tried so hard to make me realize I was okay, yet somehow did the exact opposite. I relapsed back into this hole again, and I’ve hit a worse point than I was a year ago, when my life started being a little better than it has been for years. This site helped me realize that maybe I was worth the fight, so I’m back to try and find that feeling again. I was strong, I thought I could get through this. But maybe I can’t. Maybe I’m not worth the fight, or the love, or the pain. Maybe I’m not worth anything.
My name is Sophie, I’m 16 years old, and this is me.
I’m tired of pretending that nothing is wrong with me. I’m tired of hiding my depression from my friends and family. I’m tired of feeling alone. I just want to escape the path I’m on. I saw a boy in my grade succumb to death, and I didn’t even shed a tear, yet I really want to be with him right now. I’m tired of being the perfect girl, and pretending it doesn’t effect me when someone calls me a skank, cause I’m not. I’ve never even kissed anyone. I’m tired of being the pathetic one that my best friend has to console. I’m tired of living like this. I just want out for a while. I’m tired of this shit.
I’m back. Living, and back. I thought by now I would have atleast tried to kill myself. To rid myself of the tortures of life and anxiety and depression. It’s haunts me everyday, and I don’t know how to fix myself, because I’m broken. I’m not happy, I don’t have dreams, I can’t live a normal life. I put on a fake smile at school, and pretend like I’m happy. I try to talk to new people, I try to get them to like me. But I will never be accepted. I’m weak, and broken.
I live in my room, and play the violin to keep myself busy. I do my homework, and make straight A’s. I take school seriously, and I try to look like a good student. I make my parents proud, or at least I think I do. I eat healthy food, and play sports. I look like a normal teenager, I act like one, but I’m broken, and they can’t fix me.
I have been struggling with anxiety for around five years now, and I thought I was getting better. And then Thursday rolled around. I took the ACT this weekend, and I was studying for it. It really didn’t seem that bad, until my heart started racing. My head started to hurt, my knees buckled, I started to cry. The normal panic symptoms. The worst part: I was home alone. You think a panic attack is bad. Going through it without anyone there makes you feel so alone and desperate. I hadn’t thought about suicide in two months, and all the sudden, all the thoughts came rushing back. I could’ve just gone and swallowed all of my sisters sleeping pills, or all of my anxiety medication. It took a lot for me to not at least try. But I stayed strong, and I’m still here, and I’m still fighting. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not. But I am, and I’m not gonna stop until everything in my life seems hopeless. Which is a bold statement, and is much more common than it sounds.
Why are boys so stupid? For all the guys reading this, I would love for you to explain it to me. I have possibly fallen head over heels for someone, and they have no clue. They don’t even like to talk to me. Maybe I’m the stupid one. Eh, it’s probably him. Anyone, if anyone has an idea why they are so dangerously stupid, I would so like to hear it. Thanks for your totally not suicidal related help. Sorry for this post, it will probably be deleted in a little while.
Ah, the beginning of the school year. Makes you want to tear up a little, doesn’t it? I mean, anxiety attacks are no stranger to me, so tearing up comes naturally. But hearing that first bell in the hallowed halls of Woodford High School made me cringe in my Vera Bradley backpack. Don’t get me wrong, getting to see the little freshman cower in fear was SSOO much fun, but seeing all the couples and relationships makes me want to smack my head on a wall. It’s fine though. The first day isn’t always as horrible as people make it out to be. I mean, the wierd stares in the hall and the worrying your gonna go to the wrong class consume your joy . It’s not that bad in the end. Jk
What I want to do before I die is simple, I want to be a teenager. I want to go to a party, or ditch class. These things though, are more specific:
1. Have my first kiss
2. Go to prom
3. Lose my virginity
4. Break all ties with my friends
5. Go on a date
6. Go to Europe
7. Take one last trip to florida
8. Get accepted into a good college
9. Eat a twinkie
10. Tell my best friend I love him
11. Get drunk
12. Take as many pills as possible
This is a shortened version, obviously. But, what’s your bucket list??
It seems like everyone has a good reason to commit suicide. Cyberbullying, bullying, leaked photos, bad home life, no friends, and the list goes on and on. I have none of those. I’m just a normal teenager, with a nack for getting into trouble, a soft spot for people in need, and a family that I could never just abandon. Yet I desperately want to. But I cant. Do you know how much a little oblong shaped solution to my problem costs? Way more than a 15 year old who babysits can afford.
Anyway, I’m getting off topic. My reason is simple. I wasn’t made for the life I live. I wasn’t made to walk around the desperately gray halls of high school, or try to get a date to prom. I wasn’t made to sit in an engineering class for an hour and a half, when I know I won’t be around long enough to pursue a career. This is all just wasted time and effort. I feel bad for the people who plan to live. The people who dream, and hope, and find comfort in others. They weren’t strong enough to take their death into their own hands. But I am.
So, I watching pretty little liars with my sister right now, I have to be quick. If there are typos im sorry. So, I have been taking sertraline(Zoloft) for the last year, and I just forgot to take it the last week. I haven’t thought about suicide at all, and I looked it up to see if the medication had any effect. I couldn’t get a clear answer, so I’m asking now If Zoloft could have any effect on me. Thanks.
I don’t know how or why I even decided I wanted to commit suicide. I have an amazing and loving family, a group of beautiful friends, and amazing health. Yet, despite all this, I have decided that suicide is the right way to turn. Yeah, I’ve had problems with anxiety for the past 5 years, and I lost my best friend to his slut girlfriend, but this shouldn’t be my only option.