Would this be a prologue? I don't know. But what I do know, is that I'm sharing my headspace with you. Not just from now, but from when I was some depressed 16yr/old who didn't know any better.
I won't sugarcoat it, I was mentally and emotionally the most terrible person alive. Obviously, that's an exaggeration—I'm not like...Modern day Hitler (terrible comparison, but lets be honest, if I compared myself to every other dictator in the world, it'd still be just as bad).
Like every other teenager stuck in a whirlwind of depression, mental health issues, terrible teenaged love life, everything seemed...terrible. And I do admit, being 13, 14, 15, 16, 17–just all those ages in general can SUCK. Especially 16. ESPECIALLY 16. Typically, when people think of 16, they think PRIME of their high school life, a grandeur sweet sixteen filled with laughter and presents, and the BIGGEST expectation yet: a car. I won't lie, I did get a car. But just WAIT until I get to the prime part of my teenaged years.
Oh wait, we're already here. Yeah, I flipped my car on Thanksgiving, 4 months after I reached 17. I won't spare the details of that story, but I'll just talk about my aftermath and my mental health. 16 was bad, I will say, a whole lot of crying, depression, suicide attempts. But 17? I was in the mental hospital for a little more than a week after a terribly almost-successful attempt. I was in therapy for parental issues. I dyed my hair every month, wanted to get out of the house at every moment. THAT was my 17.
Am I better now, you might possibly ask? Yes, I would like to think. There's obviously more to this story—MY story. But that's for a different time, or even, just a different book. So, lets get started, as I welcome you the Philosophies Of An Idiotic Teenager (my teacher always told me to underline book titles).
P.S.
Okay, to preface, I was going to name this book "From The Start" (hence the prologue name) and make it some deep, poetic plot about a mentally-ill teenager, but it's that time of night where I reflect. Where I kinda realize my life and who I am, who I want to be. So here I give you reality, the raw feelings and vents of an immature girl lost in her own emotions, unable to cope with herself (that sounded more poetic than I wanted it to be...). The titles will just be what I wrote the original titles as, and I might make comments on it, depending on how I feel.
