My Depression Story/Rant Book

2

A couple months after my dad I died I stopped crying myself to sleep, instead I got depressed. My energy was drained, I didn't want to socialize with people, I just didn't want to do anything.

I stopped hanging out with my friends, I was failing in school. I sat alone at lunch most of the time. I didn't want to be like this, but it happened. I don't know why it happened but unfortunately it did.

Someone once told me that "Depression comes like rain, without warning, it just happens. We can't stop it. It's impossible for us to just stop like that and be happy. We may pretend, and wear a fake smile, but behind that smile are tears, pain and overall sadness. If we make the right choices, we can lessen the storm, and eventually it will stop on its own. But if we make the wrong choices it can worsen the storm until it will eventually drown us. Choose wisely."

What a wise person to tell me this and to think, he was only fourteen.

Throughout middle school I was never very social, It's not that I didn't want friends. It just that I was really shy and didn't know how to approach them, so...I didn't. I should've though. Maybe things would be different. Just maybe...

My grades were bad in eighth grade...really bad so I got held back. What would've been my freshman year became my second year of eighth grade. Which for some reason made me more depressed.

I tried being social that year, I really did. I sat at the table where the others did. But I never spoke. They never really talked to me either. They weren't friends really, more like acquaintances. I felt like if I wasn't there, it wouldn't make a difference. They wouldn't care. If I stopped going to school they wouldn't notice. And just like that. My entire existence would've been obliterated.

Things weren't so good at home either. My grandmother and grandfather complained that my grades were dropping and I should try to be more like the others. My grandmother would say "Why aren't you like the other girls, happy, smiling, always speaking out? Why are you so quiet and always look tired?" She would compare me to her friends kids, like for instance she would ask her friends son "What's your grade in math?" He would respond with an A. Then she would look up at me and say "Tina, what's your grade in math?" And I'd have to tell her about my D. She'd shake her head and sigh. Which made me more depressed because I wasn't good enough for my own grandmother. I had resulted to cutting shortly after my first eight grade year, because I felt worthless and horrible.

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It was hard going back to these years. But I don't want to stuff them into a drawer. I need to get this out, no matter what happens.
-T
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