I’ve been depressed since middle school… probably elementary school too. It’s hard to know because I’m very sarcastic and ironic… and a bitch. Or so have I been told by a large number of people.
During middle school I was made fun of quite a while… apparently the dumb asses had never seen someone small ? Well, crap was said, I believed it and felt like shit.
While I was in middle school my parents also divorced. A divorce that was so peaceful that it was fucked up.
My dad moved out. My mom moved on. My sister tried to never be home.
I was left alone… all the memories I have of high school is me alone sitting in front of my laptop all day.
My mom and I never talked to each other that much… we both are hostile people.
My sister hated my guts because I pointed every flaw she had… but it wasn’t on purpose.
My dad was alone, little by little getting furniture for his apartment. I could feel the sad inside him. I was left with caring for my dad, I saw him destroyed but acting normal.
I think I spent like 4 years getting home from school to cry in my room. No one noticed.
During this time I had only one friend that kept being my friend, and still is.
I was pretty much breaking down… I couldn’t eat in public. I always ended puking. I even puked before classes.
I had no idea what anxiety or depression were.
School was shit. I hated everyone’s guts. Some people seemed to think I had no human in me ?
I was put in garbage, carried unwillingly by boys on my school… Once there even seemed to be a stand-up comedy and all jokes were about me. At a house party I went with schoolmates I was pushed into a pool with clothes and my cellphone in hand. The guy just laughed. Then, I got out and another guy pushed me into the pool again and again.
Only a small group of people knew me really. Like, they knew I hated everyone
I usually get so fucking angry I cry… then beat the shit out of random objects.
By 8th or 9th grade I had already decided I would commit suicide when I turned 18 and was done with high school.
I turned 18 and went crazy shit fuck… went to hospitalizations, psychologists and psychiatrists.
They gave me tons of pills and told me it would be for a couple of months.
It ended being well … I still take pills.
After so many years the diagnoses turned to general anxiety disorder and mayor depressive disorder.
That’s when I got infected. (I’m joking)
My best friend told me via internet that I had made her really sad and pessimistic during high school, that she tried to stop talking to me.
Great. Depressed people love hearing that.
Time passed, and I actually noticed how people would never become attached to me. I could have people I hanged out but no friends.
Even more time passed and I was left with three friends. (One I really don’t understand if she likes me or not, we just do drugs and drink)
Blah, blah, I tried to commit suicide two times and failed. I fucking made fun of people that lived when they tried to commit suicide.
I felt even shittier since I can’t even kill myself.
So about two years ago my best friend from school stops talking to me. Ignoring my calls and texts. I noticed it and asked her why she wasn’t talking to me. She never said.
I tried to commit suicide again. Yes, I fucking failed, again. By this time I was like fucked up in my head, after the hospitalization I kinda was in limbo. I didn’t even remember why I was sad before. Those fucking white walls fuck you up. It took me like a week to remember, and feel, the anxiety that has always haunted me.
During my stay in the crazy hotel. My best friend from school called my roommate and was blaming herself and shit. Then she told her she was staying away from me because she couldn’t handle the way I was.
People, don’t be stupid, you are not that important for me to take my life because of you.
It was three years ago. My roommate told me during december. She also told me she thought too that I scared people away with my personality. And the same year my psychologist told me the same thing, that I could change myself physically but it wouldn’t change my attitude and that is what scare people away.
I fucking fell like shit, even lower than shit. I thought I deserved punishment. I started self-destructing again (I think I actually never stopped).
Last year I lost contact with the few friends I had left.
My roommate and friend from school were the ones that still talked to me.
A couple of days ago my roommate repeated that I make people go away… just in case I hadn’t heard it the fucking thousands of time I was told.
I. fucking. get. it.
So I stopped making a fool of myself and stopped calling people.
I don’t really understand the point of living for other people… if I freaking damage their poor minds.
Last year I spent pretty much all the year by myself.
No one to talk to in University, my friend has like a man she’s going to marry and my roommate had a boyfriend-whatever.
I was alone.
So fucking alone.
And no one cared.
As the year went by I got used to being alone and my face expressed sadness and hopelessness.
Last year I successfully was alone, and I had episodes of my disorders, and got through them by myself. Oh, and it wasn’t with coke or alcohol. If I felt some kind of happiness at anytime, I’d be proud of myself. But I lost little by little my smile. I just… feel neutral.
I even stopped crying at night. I feel sad and no tears come out. I just… stare.
I thank everyone that told me I was a plague of sadness.
For you, assholes, I will fucking stop joking about suicide. (Fucking three times… I have to joke about it or I cry)
I will let you find out and feel the shit and sadness around us by yourself.
Don’t anyone dare ask me for help when they are feeling down. I’ll. punch. your. fucking. face.
As you may have noticed… I got my hostility out and proud. My shield from people. This way I don’t make anyone sad.
Life does, cunts.