I need to tell my story, because I don't know what to do

[mimi99]

Hi. My name is Mimi; I'm 15 and I'm depressed. But I guess you'd already know that if you're reading this. I've decided to try and write down my experience, maybe for some closure. Or maybe because I'm tired of hiding it. Either way, here goes.

You would think, if you met me, that I was as far from depressed as you could get. I'm slender but curvy, on the taller side, blonde hair, blue eyes, cute clothes, nice friends. Not popular, but not unpopular either. I'm friends with unique people- different, shy, outgoing, honest; in general most of my friends don't fit the mould of "normal." I'm a Buddhist. . I'm the one who my friends go to when they need some honest advice. I travel every summer to Europe. I take all honors- next year, I'm going to take AP history as well. I get all A's and B's. You'd think I'm happy. Heck, I should be happy. But I can't anymore. I can't pretend. This depression is killing me. The guilt, the shame. I feel trapped. Trapped inside my own day dreams. It's like I walk through life only half there; letting a bit of myself take over and run things.

I've been pretending to be someone, so that people would like me, for so long I don't even know myself anymore. I'm just surviving- not living. I guess that's why I don't seem like other depressed people. I don't hate myself. I believe life is precious. But I hate my life. I hate my feelings. I'm ashamed that I'm so controlled by my inhibitions. I'm ashamed that I can't control my feelings. I'm ashamed that I'm not happy. I feel guilty that I'm not a better person for my family. I feel guilty that I'm not a better person for my friends. I'm selfish and attention-seeking. I'm vain. I love my body. I hate my nose. I love my eyes. I absolutely detest my acne. I have had panic attacks before because I almost left the house without covering my ugly spots. But I don't hate myself. I hate my feelings; my situation. Does that make sense? I'm rambling now. And I hope you're not annoyed with me. I shouldn't be sad. But I am. How about I tell you about my life? If you're not bored yet...

In second grade, I moved to a new school district. I didn't get along well with the new students. It was a much wealthier area than I'd lived in before; I thought the kids were stuck up. They wore Abercrombie; I wore Walmart. In 3rd grade, I had no friends in my class, let alone the entire school. The one friend I did have stopped playing with me, and I was all alone. No one talked to me, and I had no idea what was wrong with me. I frequently embarrassed myself in front of everyone (at least in my mind). It was humiliating.

For a good part of the year people didn't talk to me unless they had to, didn't sit with me, and didn't play with me. I was so confused and hurt. Eventually, nearer the end of the year, I finally found a friend- Susie. Susie seemed very nice at first, but she quickly turned abusive and violent. She was always mean to me. But I didn't care. She would hit me. She would touch her other friends on their butts. She coined her own term, "butt sex." That was when she pressed her naked butt to her other friend's, Jess. I never participated. Except one time, during a game of truth or dare, she grabbed a cup of jello, pulled up my night dress, poured the jello on my naked chest and began groping me. I immediately threw her off, and she never tried anything like that on me again. But she continued to disrespect, hit, and be cruel to me. Often our fights were "Who has it worse?"

Then in forth grade, my mom cheated on my dad and my parents divorced. My world turned upside down. The whole ordeal went down in only a few weeks. I pretended to be strong, but inside I felt dead. I had no motivation to be alive- to me the future looked bleak and hopeless. I literally fell against a wall one night because I felt just so hopeless that I didn't have the strength to stand. I wanted to die- I tried to run out into the road but I wasn't brave enough. I gave up because I couldn't bring myself to hurt my family or Susie. I know I wasn't diagnosed with anything, but I think I was deeply depressed. And I don't think I healed properly.

After that I trusted no one. I was always scared that my parents or other people would hurt me. I worried constantly that something else bad would happen. For years following, upon entering a bath room with a bath, I'd have to open the shower curtain fully and check inside in case of danger. I panicked often- I've had full on hyperventilation and panic standing in a shower and I had to get out and look outside to see if I was safe. I ran around corners to avoid looking out windows at night in case I saw a face (I still avoid looking out windows at night or my heart beats like crazy and I run away). I close my closet door, even now, I have to make sure the light is on as I close it, and turn it off after the door is closed. Things that go bump in the night can have me frozen with fear. Only now am I starting to sleep in rooms with minimal light, and sometimes if I think too much I have to turn on the light again or I'll panic and freak out. Since then, I've also become terrified of heights and spiders, and have had panic attacks caused by both. I stopped trusting my safety, and constant worried that I was in danger. My abusive friendship never got better (I didn't leave her till 7th grade), and people continued to ignore me. Whenever someone would talk to me if freeze and say something stupid or not say anything at all.

I didn't get why people didn't like me, so I started to wonder why the other girls didn't like me. Was it my clothes, my hair, my personality? I started studying other girls- what did they wear, how did they act in certain situations, and I tried to mimic them. They were so different from me. And I hated myself for it. It humbled me. I used to be a brat, selfish. At this point I hated myself. Following my parents divorce, I had huge problems with my homework and actually completing it- the more tired I felt the more I procrastinated, the more I procrastinated the more guilty I felt and the more guilty I felt the more tired I felt. This still happens with many other responsibilities. Fast forward to 7th grade, I still have trouble speaking to people but not as much (or at least I'm better at hiding it) and I get really moderate/severe acne. I started wearing makeup, and I could not possibly leave the house without it. I hated my complexion. I hated my acne. No other girls had it. I was and still am extremely self conscience. I wasn't happy with my hair and used heat styling on it basically everyday. I also had gained weight and I started eating healthier and exercising. I had a friend who showed me that I didn't need to have those girls as my friends, the ones I had studied, because that kind of friendship was shallow, silly, and mortal. I'm thankful I learnt what I really wanted in friendship. But at least I could get up in the morning. My step mom has always been hard on me, and it's gotten too much.

My stepmom had twin babies December 2013. I love them to bits. But over the past 2 years I've always felt like what I did was never enough. Constantly my stepmom, my dad, and even my sister nit-picked me. It feels like nothing I do is right sometimes. I always feel like I disappoint them, to the point a couple months ago I would have to run to the bathroom to cry, and regain myself. It used to be only at night or on these bad days I felt depressed, but for months I haven't had the motivation to get out of bed, and it's less and less everyday. I now feel sad during the day. School and home and all my expectations were so much that I think I cracked a couple months ago- I went from being agitated and upset to being lonely and sad and empty. This whole school year I've been so tired. I don't hang out with my friends nearly as much because I feel guilty leaving my dad and step mom alone to take care of the twins, and they often guilt me for it when I come home. Sometimes I want to curl up into a ball and sleep for days, and sometimes I want to run away and find whatever will make me whole. I have less and less motivation everyday to put on the facade like I used to, to actually enjoy school, to actually enjoy my life. Nearer the end of the school year, I felt sick more often. I just didn't want to be in school. It was too much. One time I came home sick and my stepmom found out I missed a presentation and the next hour was a lecture on how this wasn't the real world, and in the future it didn't matter how sick I was, I needed to be there for my team. She said it "disturbed" her that I could leave them for the presentation alone. It was also my fault that she had missed 2 hours of work to come pick me up. I felt like absolute horse shit. I received a similar lecture from my dad later on that day. I took a max of 4 or 5 sick days out of 180; and at least two of those I attended half the day then when home. Most of them have been when I was depressed. If only they knew what was really hurting...

I've written so much. Yet so little. I just need to get it out of my system a little. Self-therapy. I'm not asking for advice, but I'll gladly accept it. I haven't told anyone about this yet. But I'm done hiding. So thank you for listening.
- Mimi xx

[nenkohai2]

Hi Mimi,

When I was 15, there were so many things I didn't get or understand. I feel your pain. I'm not sure this is going to make sense, but I'll try:

Do you think you're trying to build your self-image by the way other people, especially your peers, act towards you? Or maybe react? Are you defining yourself based upon what you think other people think of you? It took me years to figure out that that is not a good way to build an image of who you are - because its not real. It's like looking at a fun-house mirror and being convinced that is the real you!

And for me, getting people to like me was probably my biggest issue. I became hungry for that - for affirmation. I actually tried to get people to love me... especially the opposite sex, because that meant the world to me. It made me feel so good!! That is, until I looked at why I was doing that. It was a craving. I mean, we all want that... to be liked, loved, and wanted. And its good to have that! But I took it too far. It was a compulsion for me. It wasn't the right reason - I wanted to satisfy that craving. Honestly, it was my "high" of choice and it lead to some very bad situations.

Okay, I'm a way old person (51). But in reading your post, I saw myself at your age. And I thought, if I could tell "myself" (you, really) something useful, the above might be that. The reality is, though, I may have missed the mark entirely and none of what I said is useful. But. maybe just file those things in the back for your mind. As a friend of mine is fond of saying, "take what is useful. Leave the rest."

Best of luck to you, Mimi

n.