Giving Up

A Depressed Life

This is a true story. This is my story.

___________________

It was just after summer holidays, I was 14 years old at the time. Just the first week back into school at the start of September. I didn't mind it, I was just like any other student going back. Just eh, something that has to be done. So the first few days back were fine. Nothing different then any other year. The first few days go by, no problem. Just getting back into the routine of school again.

One day, as I went out into the school yard at lunch time as usual, for no particular reason at all, I decided that I would take it slow today you know, might have been tired or didn't get enough sleep or something, I can't remember. But what I did was, instead of going around with my friends and talking, laughing and playing, I leant against the fence and just kinda watched. I just watched everyone, doing there own thing. Everyones got there own things going on, it was interesting. On the left, there's people playing basketball and stuff, on the right you've got people sat on the floor chillin' and talking. I was just observing and just started thinking:

What the hell are we all really doing here? On this planet I mean. I started questioning the theory of evolution, different religious beliefs and stuff just trying to figure out what's true and what isn't. Basically, I was just overthinking about everything and it lead me to a question, why are we doing this? Why are we growing up, going to school, studying, going to college and then working for our whole lives when we are just going to end up dying? And thats when it hit me.

I realized then, in that moment.

I don't know what I'm doing. Why am I alive? Why should I go to school and get an education for a job and then die whereas I could stay at home, grow up and still get a job, maybe not a good one but still, I'm going to end up dying either way. The end result is the same. 

After all that thinking, I questioned everything that happened for the next few days. Is there a god? Is there a heaven? Is this all for nothing?

It was September the 11th, 2012. And things went only downhill from there.

My life had become a dark, deep pit of hopelessness. I didn't feel anything after that. I had no emotion. I was empty. Days went by, days that turned into weeks, things had only gotten worse and at home, I wasn't talking to my parents much. I was just not bothered with anything. I started crying a lot at the thoughts of me having to grow up and do all this shit that has to be done today. I cried alot. Eventually, I realized that I can kill myself. I could just commit suicide and it would be over. Without paying attention to my surroundings, I went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and because of my brothers being home, I didn't want to kill myself there so I tried running for it out the back door when suddenly my dad had caught a glimpse of the knife in my pocket. Now for him, I assume the thoughts in his mind just questioned my need for a knife and it didn't take long for him to realize that I haven't been the same lately, I've been feeling down and I guess it hit him that I'm going to kill myself. So without hesitation, he got up and rushed towards me. I seen him coming and knowing I won't make it out the door, I tried to stab myself, there and then.

It was too late though, my dad grabbed my hand as it lifted. I realized its all over then. I'm going to have to keep on living, and what's going to happen to me soon, isn't going to be fun.

And how right I was. My parents had brought me to hospital the next day where I met this really nice staff of doctors, nurses and psychologists. I spent 12 days in hospital where I was told, that I have depression. As if there was any doubt. So as the treatment went on the 12 days were just me laying on the hospital bed seeing a doctor once a day and that was really it. I just faked recovery so I could get out. After the 12 days, I was discharged and released from hospital but referred to a child psychologist clinic. Basically, I had to start seeing a shrink. So that happened, I met her, she was nice. And eventually we discussed all the things that were wrong and as days went by, things were only getting more worse and hopeless for me. So they decided that I need more urgent help. From there, I was referred to a psychiatric unit. Or in other words, a Mental Hospital.