My Life

How it all started

My depression started about early December 2010 when my grandpa died it hit me pretty hard because e he was the person that I was with every day from the beginning of kindergarten till about 2nd grade (2008) when he got really sick. Me being the not so smart 2nd grader that didn’t know why he was all of a sudden sick. He was passed in and out of different nursing homes for the next year after having neck surgery to try to help the fact that his neck was really messed from carrying mail for 20 something years and then being in the air force. while he was in the nursing home they refused to get the grumpy stubborn old man out of bed and so he formed bed sores on his feet and they also refused to give him some of his meds, eventually he was put into a hospital and both his brother and druggie sister came to Florida from Michigan to tell him goodbye and that he put up a good fight. He was eventually discharged from the hospital and transported to  a new nursing home in st.pete(FL) [ around  spring 2010] that was much nicer and about a week before he died my parents went to see his hair cut that he got . Sadly he died in his sleep and I remember the night like it was yesterday, I was having a sleepover with my friend gabby and we were just having fun like any normal 10 year old girls during a sleepover and the next morning I woke up in my guestroom (where we had slept in the queen-size bed together because it was being used as my room) with my mom faxing some papers and she turns to me and says "Lauren, your grandpa Leo died last night" and I just sat there crying for at least two hours I really just wanted to stay there and cry all day but I couldn’t cause I was being  a rude friend as it was but my friend gabby didn’t care she knew how close I was to my grandpa and how much time I had spent with him in my first years of life that I remember. From then on I tried as hard as I could to be happy, I pretended to be happy just so people wouldn't question why I was sad all the time. He died on December 4th, 2010 though he died, he died a hero or at least to me he was a hero. fifth grade ended and I was really sad for a while because I had to leave the people that I had been associating with for the past 6 years and now they were gone, I was being shipped off to a new school downtown that I would only know about one person. About august 11th ,2011 I realized that I was just getting brought down all the time , I thought it was because my friends were mean but no it wasn’t it was because I missed my grandpa. I started cutting around November/ December 2011 and I stopped after about 5 cuts because I realized that isn’t the path I want to take in life , little did I knowI was actually going to end up taking that path anyways. In 2012 I started cutting a lot more, at first it started with me burning myself- lighting a match and putting it out on my wrist-and then about September I started cutting my upper thighs and then around November I convinced myself that killing myself was the answer and that was what I should do to just get rid of the pain I was feeling. By the end of December 2012 I had around 100 scars all over my left arm and upper thighs just from all the pain that I wanted to cause myself. I planned on telling Rachel but just when the time was right and I did eventually tell her though it was January 4th ,2013 when I told her and she took it surprisingly well, though I never did and probably never will tell Gabby about it because she just doesn’t think about the darker side of everybody like that. Now as I write this on February 17th ,2013 I have no open cuts caused by a razor blade anywhere on my body. It still hurts me to know that the people I used to call my friends never truly cared about me as much as I did about them.