I have struggled with depression since I was sexually abused at 12 years old. I come from a family that never talks about their feelings and I think my parents actually don’t believe in mental illnesses. So even before “the incident” I was very closed-mouthed or prone to initiating long, tearful arguments with my parents that never solved any of my problems. When I finally won an argument about seeing a psychologist, I couldn’t talk to her. I literally couldn’t talk! My throat tightens and it becomes too challenging to say anything, so I don’t.
So now I am here. Half of my life has been spent hating it. I don’t plan for my future, because in my head I am not sure if I will have one. It’s a hard thing to say out loud, but it is a truth I have carried with me for over a decade — that one day I will probably kill myself. Every day I think about how I would do it, what the most painless way to go would be… But deep down inside I know it’s not what I want, I just don’t want to feel so sad and hopeless all the time.
Now I have a daughter and I want to be better for her. I want her to have a happy childhood, and not end up unhappy because her mother is.
However after she was born I fell to the lowest point of depression I have ever been in. I hardly slept more than 5-6 hours/ day and only had a few hours/ day with my husband (who worked too late to make money for us). I broke down. I stared out the window and cried all day. I fought with my husband and we almost broke up. He was the one to force me to get help for my depression, or we wouldn’t work out.
But my doctor wasn’t much help. She prescribed a low-dose anti-depressant. I told her didn’t work. She doubled the dose. Still wasn’t helping. She temporarily added an anti-anxiety (which actually helped to make me more comfortable leaving the house) but when that was gone she wouldn’t refill it. So with the anti-depression medicine not working, I quit taking medicine all together. I am back to where I started and feeling terrible. Last time I tried to talk to my doctor about depression, we were interrupted and she let it drop.
I am so lost… I would love for someone else with my problems to tell me how to talk to someone. I am so scared to say how I feel because my parents never believed me. They always thought I just wanted attention (as if anyone wants THAT kind of attention)! I have lived with this sickness for 14 years, half of my life, and I don’t know how to be any other way. I need someone’s help, to just tell me what I have to do…
Hang in there.
I know first hand how hard a task that can seem sometimes, but I can guarantee it’s worth it. I attempted suicide when I was 14 and I remember how hard it was just to see another day. I honestly believed back then that other people deserved the oxygen I breathed more than I did. It felt like I was sitting at the bottom of a deep hole and everything I did actually dug the hole deeper.
The bravest thing I’ve ever done was to keep waking up everyday.
In the time since my teenage years, I’ve been a champion athlete, traveled to more amazing places than I can keep track of, helped hundreds of people, had my heart lit up and broken, and had experiences more glorious than anything I could imagine at 14. I started to see those years as a place to draw strength from. Several therapists have helped me see that some of the negatives I attributed to myself actually were the influence of my parents and had nothing to do with my character or who I could choose to be as a person.
Not every day, week, month, or even year is easy, but my experience has taught me that all pain is temporary. I also take the time to appreciate every positive I run into now, because it’s a moment I almost didn’t have. Someone once said to me: believe you are going to survive, and you will. It’s good advice, I promise.
Hi. I am 18 years old. I have never been diagnosed because I have never said anything to anyone about how I actually feel, but I think I may have depression. I constantly have an overwhelming sad feeling. I feel like I’m in a hole and I can’t get out. I try to be happy, but it doesn’t work. I always feel alone, even when surrounded by a crowd. I’m paranoid everyone that I interact with actually hates me. I think they all talk badly about me when I’m not around and I can’t help but think it’s me- maybe I did or said something wrong. I can’t stop feeling like this despite the reassurance of others that it’s not true. Maybe I assume they hate me because I hate me.
I’ve been feeling this way for a few years now, but I feel like it’s gotten progressively worse. When I was in 7th or 8th grade, I tried to kill myself. I haven’t tried since, but I still think about what would happen if I did.
"Be the voice that sticks up for itself", my grandfather said that to me all the time when I would come to him about problems. Sometimes the person struggling is the one faking the biggest smile. Don’t let society tell you that its not okay to cry or talk about what’s going on with you. No one benefits from bottled up emotion; trust me I would know. Everyone thought I was fine all the time because I play sports and i carry a 3.8-4.0 gpa and my brother is the most popular person in the school, but no one is perfect. If you see a crack in a glass vase, repair it as best you can, sometimes all chipped glass needs is love.