Okay, I don’t really know how to start this, so I’ll start it by saying I don’t know how to start it.
When I was a kid, I had problems with depression. I would get depressed often, sometimes for no reason, other than hating my life. And I was in the kindergarten/ early primary school phaze, so that’s quite young for a kid to be depressed.
Keeping how young I was in mind, my dad told me last Tuesday evening, that I once told him that I wanted to die.
Now, I’ve read about a million answers to a variety of questions, and in more than half, the people who wrote it said that their parents were/are either physically or mentally abusive, or even both.
So I’m quite lucky, but my parents aren’t that bad. Okay they don’t have the best parenting skills, and I notice this quite often, but they still generally care about and love me.
So they were anxious about what I might do, and took me to a children’s psychologist. This helped me alot, and although I still got quite sad frequently, it wasn’t bad enough or alot that it was depression. So it got better.
I don’t really remember getting depressed after that, until about 2–3 years ago.
Since I was now 2 years in high school, and 13 years old, school became more difficult.
started getting depressed again, because my school grades were getting worse ( I never had to study much because I remembered learning material from class, and passed the tests in flying colors.
I now had to study, and this was a little hard, because I had never needed to do that, so I never learned how to study properly.
My grades just kept getting worse, and I started getting depressed again. At first, it was just crying, maybe thinking about how my life was terrible.
Then, I started thinking that I hated my life, that it’s horrible.
Then my parents allowed me to get a smartphone, where I found out about self-harm. So I started doing that. I’ve stopped now but I still have scars.
One day, about two months after I started cutting, one of my mum’s friends from work commit suicide. I had never heard about it, and did some research about it.
What I basically found out was that people did it when they hated their lives, and couldn’t bare to live any longer. And that was exactly how I felt. But yet, I didn’t commit suicide. All I did was think about it, ways I could go about it, where, if I would leave a letter etc.
When I was fourteen, I tried to hang myself with a scarf from the curtain bar above the window. Well it didn’t work very well, and my feet still touched the floor. I stopped then. Ive told about four people about my depression, one person about the cutting, but no one knows I tried to commit suicide.
Since then, I still get depressed about 7 times a week (not every day, twice on some days though). I’m 15 now, and my grades are still terrible, but things are getting slowly, oh so slowly, better.
Here is a list of things that my depression has caused in my life:
- Tried to commit suicide.
- Extreme laziness, because half the time im thinking about how bad my life is, instead of bettering it.
- My grades have dropped.
- I’ve gained some weight. I’m 63kg at 15, which is 15kg more than I’m supposed to be healthily(my weight is also part of the depression, thinking about how fat I am, but I still dont care that much how much I weigh.
- I’m not very close with anyone, I hate being social, and panic most of the time when confronted with social events. When younger, I was the “popular girl”, meaning everyone wanted to be my friend and hang out with me. Even my friends say I used to be the most popular one.
- My depression has even led to a couple of panic attacks, and anxiety, because I get worried I won’t pass a test, because I spend 80% of my days depressed, so I don’t study much.
And that was caused by not studying alot but still getting good grades, and then suddenly needing to study which I did not know how or had the motivation to do, just because I had never needed to it. (But my mum thinks it’s just puberty, so she still ahsnt taken me to a psychologist or psychiatrist).
I’ve tried helping my depression by now cycling to school, a bit less sugar in my diet, less making my self socialize and so on.
So that’s it. That’s my experience with depression.
But it’s not “That was my experience with depression” it’s “That is my experience with depression”, as it’s still (depressingly) ongoing.
Life lesson: Make you kids study from a young age, even if they don’t need to, so they won’t struggle as I did when they get older.
So things have looked up since then, I haven’t been depressed for nearly six months now (wooooo) and although near the end of my depression I cut quite a lot, I haven’t done it anymore, and the scars are fading.