The Tragic Story Of Two Sad Gays

SSRI stands for Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor

I decided to tell a friend of mine about Dylan, about the way I felt about him, the thing is she had left the school a year prior and so we texted though Facebook Messenger. 

As I had said previously I wasn't technically out yet, at least to my parents, I did tell them like once or twice I was bi, but their response was always "you're just confused <3" which really didn't do anything other than make me feel bad. 

My mum was a very nosey person, she loved checking people's Facebooks when they accidentally left them open, including mine. It was the 13th of October of 2016 that she decided to open my Facebook and read through every single conversation I had. Each one.

That day was horrible I don't even wanna try to remember it, but after a long discussion and feeling at my lowest I've ever felt I tried to kill myself. I grabbed a paper cutter and went in on my wrists, a pain I will never forget because I felt so empty I didn't even feel it, it was more painful what I felt inside my heart than the pain of the sharp knife slashing through my veins. After seeing what I had done to myself my mum decided to take me to therapy after talking to her sisters. 

I went back to school the next day, I hadn't slept, I had big eyebags in my eyes and freshly made cuts, Mary was the only one that saw them, I didn't let anyone see them, I was so ashamed. I only stopped cutting because I thought of what my sister would think. She was 5 at the time.

I went to therapy the saturday following that and started going twice a week, after a month I was prescribed half a pill of fluoxetine every day for the following two months. What a fucking ride.

I had no sex drive, no happiness, I was so empty, it was hard. 

I started having a distorted self bogy image which led to me being in the brink of an eating disorder, I was scratching myself and kept on having insomnia, I think fluoxetine was horrible for me. I stopped talking to my mum, I had lost all faith in her, I was angry because why did she have to swoop in on my conversations, why did she have to be a bitch and think it was her business to know everyone business, and the worst part is she proudly boasted about being a busybody.

I was so fucking low I only looked forward to seeing Mary, she was the one telling me to take my ssris and listening to me, and while I hated opening up more than I limited myself to I still felt good.

After a month close to the middle of december and being told I was clinically depressed I decided to stop going to therapy and stop SSRI treatment. I couldn't bear to watch the fucking son of a bitch of my therapist that instead of helping me heal was just add salt to my wounds, there was not one day where I left therapy without crying, I was fucking distraught and hurt and I felt like no one was there to help me.

In december I found out Mary got expelled because of behavioural issues, I went back to square one.

Who was gonna be there to listen to me, to help me when no one else could, I started working back on my relationships with Annie, Dan and Sarah, a friend from my schoolbus which if it wasn't for her I probably would have never healed. 

I stopped wanking for like 3 months, I physically wasn't able to, it felt like after going and going and going I was feeling nothing, a reason why I decided to continue not doing anything with Dylan, which was kind of for the best.

After a very spiritual trip to Sarah's ancestral land, her dad, who is first nations, did a healing of my soul. Now, I don't believe in spirituality, but there is something about being in the virgin nature not having to worry about anything that simply does a body good.

I came back and I was no longer depressed, after 6 months I was finally free from the shackles of my own mind.

It was on april that I felt finally something other than depressed, but my relationship with my mum was still strained, and would continue to be for a long time.

During that time I started 8th grade, it was hard not being with Mary but I made another friend, one who would give me my happiest and my saddest moments, Austen.