Thank you for clicking on my story.
(In a nut shell)
The problem I feel with my depression is, I've tried everything to avoid therapy. I've talk to maybe 2 or 3 people, It helps but not for long. I feel like my problems aren't big issues, even though they are to me. I don't want to weight down other people when they have their own problems. I try to surround myself with supportive friends, but sometimes they're never available. Respecting that they're lives don't revolve around me I don't pursue them, even at times when I need the company. I have a mother who I hate (for personal reasons) and I don't share anything with her. I love my father, we have an amazing relationship where since I was born my mom would tickle my feet and my dad could feel it on his own feet in another room of the house. Today it's the same; it's as if we were twins. Craziness or coincidence, we have a strong bond.
So of course, I talked to him. He's tried to be supportive but all I could read from his voice and his face was 'this can't be right, were did my happy-go-lucky little girl go?' This was a little more upsetting then before I talked to him.
Him... and a teacher I talked with at school, they both said the same thing. Therapy. I don't want therapy. Are they or a shrink the only people who I can really talk to?
(My story)
When I was a girl I was a happy-go-lucky little chubby girl, I did have a weight problem but that wasn't the root of it. Through out school (kindergarten to grade 3) I only had one friend. My other two friends were on my block but went to different schools.
I was fine with it actually. For some reason I never had any desire to be with 'The in crowd' and today I’m very happy about my discussion. It felt more like instinct to avoid those people, now I know my senses were telling me to protect myself. The fallowing year, grade 4 I was put with a 'Special needs class'. Now... no one in my class was diagnosed with any sort of extreme mental issue, we were just a bunch of kids who had problems with math or English. Well, the rest of the school didn't understand that... so I’m not sure if I actually need to explain what happened for then next few years... it's pretty explanatory. I well say it wasn't just students we got grief from; some teachers in the school didn't like us either. In grade 6 my marks were getting higher, I was able to transfer into a 'normal' class but I was scared. Of the kids, the teachers in the school and of me seriously injuring someone, I was at that point...
So I stayed in class were my education didn't go any farther then a 5-6 grade level in grade 8.
In high school I wasn't good in math, but I bombed everything else. I was getting 70-80 marks, but I still couldn't stand the kids, it was horrid... and that should be a new story all on its own. Just a bunch of gangster kids who where most likely to drop out after grade 10.
Luckily, I'm an artistic person; I've been that way since kindergarten I've been told. So I transferred to an art school.
I regret it and love it.
The education felt similar to the time I spent in those extra help classes. I don't feel like I've grown.
But the people are amazing, outgoing. Some are so stick up and spoiled I wanna rip them apart. But If I hadn't have gone I would never have met my love of photography.
I'm in grade 12 now... in a school with people I love, doing art... but the last three years of my life were the worst.
Here is where it starts.
Before and during the winter holidays in grade 9 my dads Cockietal birds had babies. The first two was when I was going to high school; my school was only 8 blocks away, a 15 min walk. I would come home every afternoon and feed them, then feed myself while I walked back
. Luckily the other two came when I was on winter break and could relax. I raised them and had them for almost 3 years. Then one night gr 11, it was Halloween and I was on the other side of the city at a party to go trick or treating with. I go home late but the next morning I wake up to my dad telling me that my mom was giving away 'MY' BIRDS to the pet store my sister us to work in.
Problems....?
She had no right. they were mine, I helped raise them and they thought I was their mother and the pet store owner moved to a different location about a 2 hour drive out of the city.
Other problems, I loved them but my hearing was fading and cockietals are noise birds. After about 2 days of arguing I gave in... I was able to keep one.
I'll regret that discussion for the rest of my life...
They were my friends and my only means of copping... at the end of grade 9 soccer was starting again. I've been playing for about 7 years. I live it... I went from a size 38 to a 26... working my way down to a 24. I was losing weight an taking care of myself, I was confidante and hot :Lol:
Everything was shattered when I tore my ACL (a ligament in my knee) and was told I couldn't play soccer anymore...
three years of no more climbing trees, no tag, to running around with my friends... no soccer, my only outlet to my anger and frustration.
So then I used my birds... they were something i could take care of, creatures that relied on me for life. Their food, water and for attention. I never released how that exchange happened until now...I had no idea how much I needed them they're gone. I missed them so much I stopped taking care of myself. my weight came back due to being bed ridden after my surgery, the first time in my life i let my weight control me. i started feeling ugly.
I love soccer, photography and my pets.
I was let with one bird and a cat (who died about a mouth ago and that's not helping either) and i feel horrible.
I let my babies go, I feel rotten. I stopped caring about the things i loved. Thinking about going back to soccer, I have no drive left. photography, i feel like i'm no good but everyone says I’m good.
And my baby, my sweety, I don't have much drive left to take care of him. I use to do it alone but now my dad has to help. He has to remind my to feet him. My baby doesn't deserve that.
I lost interest in everything that matters, the best school I could have gone to and I spent it there in misery.
What have I do to help myself?
this year i started gym for the first time in three years. I was so out of shape I was depressed for weeks, I couldn't believe it! If i didn't make a very nice friend in that class I would have just dropped out.
Last Thursday my teacher Mr S (his name is to hard to spell) persuaded my to try out for the girls soccer team. My knee is so much better after the healed from the surgery. It was a blast I had fun... but will do the same thing... if i make the team will i give up afterwards... I'm afraid I'll lose interest in the very sport in enjoyed doing. On emotional levels, i think it might actually make things worse....
And i have a three mouth subscription to a gym... will it last three months? I'm trying to stay positive but habits will start... I'll wake up and say I'll sleep for a few more hours then go work out.... naw I'll go tomorrow... I'll go next week. :confused:
to not going at all.
Minor problems, but they're big to me. More stories to come... now that you know a little about me. If you thought that was the end, oooh no. I havn't finished with my mother....
I'm trying to help myself slowly but talking about, writing it out is very helpful.
You are trying & that's good... Keep it up girl! One day at a time, one step at a time, alright?!
and i got upset with him for it. i think i have mostly forgotten about it in my later years of high school. and now in college it doesn't bother me much.