"What's depression like?" He asked. - Kyran, Alex & Matt - Wattpad

"What's depression like?" He asked.

Reads 425,982
Votes 15,652
Parts 67
Time 3h 27m

Reads 425,982
Votes 15,652
Parts 67
Time 3h 27m

depression disorders hang help loneliness mental past please ptsd în

I'm sorry if this story is bothering you. But if it is, it's clearly not meant for you.
"What's depression like?" A friend once asked.
I didn't know what to say.
Because when people ask you things like "What's wrong" and "How are you?" and "Can I help you?" I never know what to say. I end up lying. I end up answering "nothing" and "Fine" and "No". 
Though what I really want to answer is "Everything" and "I'm not okay" and "Yes, please". 
What depression is like? Writing what it's like is easier than telling what it's like. Only a few will totally understand what it's like.
And for those people I wrote this.All Rights Reserved

depression disorders hang help loneliness mental past please ptsd în

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Levels of Stress by PhantasticalDisco

Pain. Depression, anxiety, insomnia, panic disorder - it wasn't a lonely feeling, but one that wouldn't hesitate to rip your heart open. I know that personally. It's always been difficult to tell people. I can't tell my friends, my family, and certainly not therapists. That's why I've created a system that I call my 'Levels of Stress' and have saved my 10... that is up until now. ***Warning: contains triggers, graphic violence, and a lot of deep, raw emotions. It has parts of entries from my journal during my worst period, the parts that I never thought about sharing until I realized how I could relate it to others.***

Cold Water by adaline_meadows

[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression

Unmask by mona_leighsah

"You trust me, don't you?" he says with a smile, that smile. It had fooled everyone, even me at some point, and for the first time I want to scream with rage and shake the earth to the core. "Give me a hug," he says pulling me out of the chair that feels like a rock underneath me. I am as stiff as a board as his hands circle me, making me feel worse than dirt. His hands reach between my thighs and I want to plunge a knife deep through his chest. The only thing stopping me is, the knife is no where near. I pull back and I don't try to hide the anger in my eyes. I want him to see it. To know that I am coming for him. Rape is chanted repeatedly in my mind, reminding of the lies I just told and the false accusations I am throwing on innocent people. He's probably figured it out anyways, surely a Priest as high as he cannot be deceived. But none of that matters anymore because...... This is just the Beginning.

Fml by hannah101gal

"Are you ok?" "What's wrong?" "Are you sad?" "Everything will be okay". Honestly, I'm not okay, what's wrong? Everything! And why am I sad? Because I can't handle anything anymore and NOTHING will be okay. I don't know why I always need to lie to everyone about me, it's not like they could understand anyways. Who's been by my side? Well people obviously, but none of them can know what I think! How I feel! How could they anyways, it's not like my life is a book that people can just read and understand... Who am I? An emotional girl who is exaggerating right now? Haha! NO. I'm actually Anne, and I'm fourteen. I guess that I'm a social teen, always looking happy and approchable. Well not lately...But you'll get to that part at some point. I'm an "average teen" like some people say. Well I honestly don't know. I'm always tired, depressed stressed, but some say that that's normal. Of course because my life isn't complicated at all...Maybe I imagine things? All these years and I've always kept things inside, of course I have friends, but they can't hear my thoughts and know everything in my pathetic life. So that's why I've decided "Well why not write in a diary? Maybe it will help? Or something" I have no idea if it actually helps, but it might...At least it's something I can open up to. To talk about my suicidal thoughts, my depression, my self-harm issues and my eating disorder... On that note.... Bye.... Fml :) Anne

Happy Endings by Magnolia_Abernathy

"Don't you see now why we can't be together?" I whispered at the crazy boy in front of me. "Aren't you repulsed by me? Disgusted? Dis interested? Can't you just tear my heart out and leave like any other normal teenage boy?" My voice cracked. He simply shook his head. "Sweetheart, I thought I made it clear from the first time I said it," He paused, "I. Like. You." He emphasized every word, and I gaped at him. "Hell of a lot, actually, so it'd be great if you stopped being salty and liked me back." "Don't you get it?" I whispered unbelievingly, "After all that, and you still don't get why I can't be with you?" He seemed relaxed, calm. Too calm for this situation. "My life doesn't involve a guy like you, Nathan. Never did. You're not my knight in shinning armor, and you aren't going to save me. This is reality, the real world. And the real world doesn't have happy endings." ---- To me, there's are six different types of crying. One; The Breakdown. Two; The Longing. Three; The Hysterical. Four; The Broken. Five; The Happy. Six; The Inevitable." ---- This short story is very depressing, I'm warning you now. It may trigger memories, or depression symptoms.

Look What You Made Me Do by LizzieRa17

"Don't tell anybody about this." "If you just ignore it, it'll stop." "There's nothing I can do to help you." And so I did everything I was told. I shut up. I put on a brave face. I followed all the rules. But that was the past and it's not who I am anymore. I will be loud. I will be angry. I will tell the truth. Look what you've done. You gave me a story to tell. ----------------- Unfortunately, a true story. DISCLAIMER: This is my side of the story and, with the exception of a few voicemails/text messages/statements from friends, it all comes straight from my memory. As is the case with most PTSD brains, my memory isn't very good so I can't 100% confirm the accuracy of anything, but it is written almost exactly as I remember it. If anyone reading this happens to know something I don't, feel free to let me know. ----------------- Thank you for reading. ----------------- Dedicated to Sketch, and Toto, and Dr. Worm, and Mia, and anyone else (real or imaginary) that I loved, but they hated.

Catastrophically Carla (Lesbian Story) by xpaaulettex

Ages 14+ (lesbian concepts and some profanity) This is not your everyday love story, okay? It's not a chick flick either. The events and themes within my pages have meaning, depth, truth-and most of all, reality. You are about to be taken on an adventure about a girl who's life is not like everybody else's. I look like a normal teen girl, I mean, I have hair and two eyes and two hands and feet like everybody else, but I couldn't feel more different. I have two moms, yes. Let's just get that out there before you start reading and close my diary like everyone in my life has shut me out of theirs. All I want is a normal life with normal friends who don't judge me because of my home situation. I don't even remember the last time I went on a sleepover or called somebody my age. I don't mean to be a downer, because it does get better. Life gets better. Struggles are only temporary, I know that now. And by my last words reach your eyes, I've come a long way, and have grown to see potential in myself. I'm sharing this with you because I want to make a difference. I know now that I'm not the only one in the world that feels alone. I've been there, done that, and there's more loneliness to come, but for now, I feel more prepared for it. I know how it feels to sit by yourself at lunch every day and how it feels to watch others go to prom with dates and feel like shit because you don't think you'd even have any friends to go with. Please ready my diary. I am much older now, and much more wiser, and I can't wait for you to realize the potential in yourself, too.

Not me. (2023) by MineOnlyFriend2

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Slide 1 of 10

Levels of Stress cover

Cold Water cover

Happy Endings cover

Look What You Made Me Do cover

Catastrophically Carla (Lesbian Story) cover

Not me. (2023) cover

Is It Love? cover

If I Try (Lesbian Story) cover

Levels of Stress

Pain. Depression, anxiety, insomnia, panic disorder - it wasn't a lonely feeling, but one that wouldn't hesitate to rip your heart open. I know that personally. It's always been difficult to tell people. I can't tell my friends, my family, and certainly not therapists. That's why I've created a system that I call my 'Levels of Stress' and have saved my 10... that is up until now. Warning: contains triggers, graphic violence, and a lot of deep, raw emotions. It has parts of entries from my journal during my worst period, the parts that I never thought about sharing until I realized how I could relate it to others.