It all started in 2006 when my mom got with a guy named Dan. He was so strict. He still is strict. But he wasn't just strict. I was 6 years old when I started with chores. He made me clean the house and wash the dishes while he sat around after work and did nothing. I always bent over backwards for everyone and my mom never did anything because he told her that I needed disciplined. I had cleaned everything and he always beat me for something I didn't do. I hated my life so much but I didn't understand what depression was because I was 6 years old. This went in for a few year and when we moved to our new house I had my own room.
In 2008 I was in my own room and I always got yelled at for not having it "spic n' span" to Dan's standards. But it was clean and I was 8 years old. I was becoming more capable of doing more things than I could when I was older. This is when I started learning about depression and people hurting themselves and I thought it was a terrible thing. But now I know. I was so ready for school when I was younger. I was in the 2nd grade in this time I think. I had just transferred to this school and was so happy because I had met some new kids and I had a "gf" at the time. I was a tough little shit. I made everyone happy and always made people laugh. I still remember when I got to add 30 seconds to the recess board but I put 30 sex instead of 30 sec😂. This was the time I still had hope and was happy about everything that went on. I could finally get to make new friends and be able to have such a good life and never be depressed because I thought I would have the best time ever because who could bully you in elementary? I was wrong.
YOU ARE READING
The things we go through
Non-FictionMy life story. It's depressing, read with risk.