My history
Been meaning to write this post for a couple of days now.
For many years now I’ve been feeling the effects of depression. Up until about two years ago though I thought it was normal to feel that way. All part of puberty. I figured that hormones made everybody feel the way I did at times, and to a certain extent they may have. I’m 19 now, so it could be that the same hormonal changes are still effecting, maybe this will pass and I will be free of this thing.
Wishful thinking, admittedly.
I spent a lot of time wanting to kill myself, but having a pathological fear of death since I was a small child I never managed to bring myself to do it. I just accepted it as a normal part of being a teenager. Granted, I knew I had problems with anxiety but the word ‘depression’ never once crossed my mind. This sort of thing I coherently remember starting around age 13.
It wasn’t until year 12, my senior year of high school, that things became unsustainable. Over the years my work output gradually dropped from getting top marks in most things to managing C’s and outright failing subjects, but in year 12 I broke down entirely. I withdrew from my friends, family. I skipped most of my classes. I dropped subjects. Everything collapsed.
There are tracts of time there that I don’t really remember, everything just became a haze. I tore myself to pieces in self-loathing and disappointment more so than ever before. I will never forgive myself for all the people I have let down over the years, and continue to let down as I write this.
My lowest point came in the latter half of year 12. I ran away from home, determined to vanish off to some remote corner of the city and end it, kill myself right then and there. Needless to say my resolve didn’t hold. I pretended that there had been a family conflict and stayed at a friends house for a couple of weeks if I remember correctly.
It was at this point I think that a lot of those closest to me started to realise that something was seriously wrong. I doubt they realised exactly how serious, or even realise now, I’ve always been too good at hiding things for my own good. But depression was brought up, and with the help of probably my favourite teacher of all time and my best friend, I started to seek help.
None of it has helped, and I am now at the point I am today. It’s my fault, I was never entirely honest with people about how shit I felt, because for some reason I can’t open up to people like that. I’ve been trapped in my own head for so, so long now that it has come to me typing this onto a Tumblr blog to at least try and break down the wall between me and the world and to scream help.
This has become long so I’ll cover more current things and my state of mind in another post. If you’re one of my friends and you’re reading this; please help me. I might seem fine in front of you or when I chat to you on the phone or IM, but it’s fake, all of it. And as much as I want to break down and cry and fucking beg for help I can’t, I physically can’t. It’s all part of a wall that I can’t break through.
Just please be listening.
