My name's Justin, I'm new here. I'm 20, currently attending College (Not naming school
). I've been dealing with depression for close to 7 years now.
My life used to be swell, good friends, caring, I'd get invited to spend the night, hang out at the mall, fun times. But something in my life changed, I don't know what, but it did. Beginning in my freshman year of high school, everything changed. Dramatically. People stopped calling me, inviting me places, talking to me. I didn't know what I did, but it changed everyone's perspective of me.
And so, I nestled into seclusion. I felt I had been wronged by life, I didn't deserve it. I attended church, I read the Bible, I did good in school, never failed anything, worked hard, played sports, loved and cared for all those who walked upon the Earth, didn't hate anyone, just cared and loved, no matter what. I was a good person. But I was wronged by life. My seclusion led to depression, and it followed, never changed. I couldn't find friends anymore, it seemed everyone just wanted to stay away from me. Hated me. And yet, I still showed compassion and love towards those who used to include me. Until one day.
It was my sophmore year. I recieved a note in my locker, something that I had never expected. Not anymore, at least. It was a hate letter. I won't post what it said, but basically, it told me that I was a worthless person, undeserving of life, they said I should just die, that I was never going to be anything other than a punching bag, and that I shouldn't live. It brought me into the swing of what every one's perception of me was.
So I fell into major depression. I stopped caring, loving, I fell apart. I dropped out of sports, stopped attending church. Started drinking, and smoking. But yet, I mantained school, some how. Amazingly, I graduated school with a 3.2 GPA. And I moved away from my life, hoping to start a new. But the scars followed me. I had become a loner, self secluded, uncaring. I didn't talk, hadn't talked to anyone in years (other than my family). I hate life.
The depression on got worse, as my lonelyness kept going, I got worse. I started to self harm. I hid it of course, but, I felt it was relieving me of painful thoughts, or so it did for awhile. Then, when it became to a point that self harm didn't do anything for me anymore, I became suicidal. I thought about it constantly, ways of doing it, methods, ways not to get stopped. Ultimately, I attempted, but I survived.
And so, the attempt, failed, it gave me insight to thinking that even death didn't want me. I was to live out a pathetic life. So now, I live, breathe and wonder about this world. I want to get better, to be able to talk to a person agian, to have friends agian. To love. So that's why I'm beginning seeking help. I may mind you that I am not suicidal anymore, or so I do not self harm, but am still suffering from Major Depression.
comforting words
