Back to where I began

I'm starting to switch between almost completely numb, to some of the saddest that I've been. I've struggled with depression since I was 8. The first thing I can remember is going to a family friends wedding reception. It was late November in Iowa, so, not exactly the warmest weather in the world. I just remember walking into the old school building that it was being held in with my parents, and after a good 15 minutes, I took my mp3 player out to the old playground and sat on a jungle gym for 2 hours, listening to Three Days Grace: One X on repeat. All I could think about is how I would never be loved. They were celebrating their strong love, and I couldn't even imagine myself experiencing the feeling. I knew that people loved me, but not in any way that was by choice. More of a platonic, and "I'm kind of obligated to" kind of love. Eventually, after a few weeks, I forgot about those thoughts, until middle school. Middle school were hard times. I had friends, but again, I couldn't feel accepted. Never invited to anything, never talked to first, and always thought differently than others. Never about the new hip hop idols and such, more about what life meant. For what reason do people die and suffer and such. So, if I ever really wanted a conversation or social interaction at all, it would be my responsibility, and I always felt like a bother to the people I talked to anyways. With that frame of mind, I tried to keep my head down, and tried not speak to people, unless the unlikely chance that someone wanted to talk. This was a majority of middle school, until around the end of 8th grade. I had found myself having feelings for a few different people at the time. It was mostly that I wanted to get a close to someone, and finally feel accepted and feel like I had a place to be safe. Of course, rejected every time. I also found myself thinking a lot about suicide. Not of me actually doing it, but more of how, why, when, and even if it was an option. Freshman and sophomore years were better, but not great. I saw myself have more confidence, however my feelings of isolation did not dissappear. I gained more friends, at my hellishly small school (about 150 people in the high school), but my choices were quite limited. Being that I was at a small school, and having a fairly liberal schedule without class separation, all grades in the high school could intermingle quite easily. So, my friendships reached into other grades, along with my own. The only reason I think I have friends, is that I was always looking to help people, because I know how hard it can be sometimes. But finally, this year, I found someone amazing. A girl in the sophomore class (I'm a junior by the way). She is amazing. We had so many similar interests, but some differentiating ones also, and I thought she was just the perfect kind of person. Nice, caring, fun loving, and laid back. As I was feeling more confident than I had ever been, I started talking to her. I eventually asked her out, and she said yes. Apparently, she already had a developing crush on me (god knows why). So, we went strong for a good month and a half. I felt so strongly about her, and her about me. But after about 1 3/4 months, I began to see some changes in her. She did not want to talk to me anymore. I just brushed it off at first. But then, I had a voice in the back of my head telling me it was over. I hated that thought with all of my being, knowing that I was most likely over reacting. But, when I hit a low, I told her about it. She had always felt that sharing emotions would be fine, and that she would be happy to help with anything. So, after I told her that I was feeling low, I felt a backlash. I could tell in her eyes, that she didn't want anything to do with me. She asked for a break. I felt my heart break, as I had in the past. But, she said that it was not permanent, so my doubts left after time. But, during the break, I found myself not eating. It's not that I wasn't hungry, it was more that I didn't want to eat. She said that after I had figured some stuff out, then we could get back to the relationship. I saw a counselor, after talking to one of my close teachers who has been dealing with depression for 15 years now. I felt more secure about the situation, so I asked her if she wanted to pick it up where we left off. She looked happy to know that I was feeling a bit better. However, I knew deep down that I was not fully better. I felt one of my lows. No matter what I really did before, I didn't feel good. I wanted her to be there for me. Not as if I forced her to hang out with me, more that I just wanted to see her more, as, even before the break, she was seeming disinterested, and not hanging out with me much. I'll cut this short, she broke up with me. I asked her why, and she said that it was inevitable, and that if we stayed together, it would hurt more later. So, that was my breaking point. Up until this point, I did my best to keep my sorrow inside, but it all worked it's way out. I went to another one of my closest teachers, as she broke up with me as school was almost over, and I went to him and just sat next to him, and cried with my hood up. He was very supportive, and so were some other close teachers, and my best friend. But when I needed more tissues, I went to a separate room, grabbed some paper towels, and collapsed. My teachers and friend followed behind, and found me in a fetal position on the floor. They helped sit me up, even though I didn't want to move, and I subconsciously began to hit myself in the head. I just kept hitting myself, until they stopped me. I got up, almost fell, and then started laughing histarically, and at myself. I kept laughing at my own stupidity. And then, I switched back and forth from that, to balling my eyes out. I eventually began to repeat the phrase, "Never meant a thing," over and over again, as I clutched my hair with as much force as I could. All I though about was all of the times where my ex said that she cared, and *loved* me. I kept thinking about jumping off the top of the school too. This event led to me getting hauled home by my dad, very supportive and having gone through this before, took me to his house (mother and father are separated). Since then, I have had 4 similar breakdowns within the past 2 weeks. For the first time, I cut myself. 4 days after the breakup, I cut my arm about 20 times. I couldn't, and still can barely eat. I tried to eat a meal, and felt so disgusting that I shoved my fingers down my throat and threw up. I was just started on Lexapro at the beginning of this week. I don't know what to do anymore. I either can't feel anything, or I feel so much that I just want to die in my bed. I know that I shouldnt, but I want to cut myself. I have never been a fan of pain, but seeing the cuts on my arm, and feeling the fresh scabs just makes me want to do it more. It takes my mind off of everything. I want to be able to eat, but I can't stand to look at myslef in the mirror after I eat the slightest amount of food. I'm sorry for my long winded story. I hope you read it all through anyways. Thanks Everyone

User Comments
Anon-1

Can you spend more time with your dad? If he understands and is supportive then it would be a better environment for you.  I would recommend maybe talking to him about finding some professional help that works for you - different things work for different people so maybe try and see what will work for you x