It's long and prob'ly boring, but .. Help (triggering)

[Belle081]

I know, it'll probably bore you to death, but I need someone to know. I already wrote it all down, despite everything in my body yelling at me that it wasn't a good idea. I can't let the feat be for nothing. Please, someone? Possibly someone who would accept a new friend..?

Here goes,

I can't believe I'm about to say all this, but I don't feel too nervous about it because I don't know anybody here, and quite possibly never WILL. I've been seriously depressed for a good six years now. Somehow, though, it all just got worse about two or so years ago. I just can't stop myself from thinking! I over-analyze EVERYTHING!! My motivations, my reasoning, my logic, my thoughts (down to the letter). Ever since I was eight or nine, I've had this thing with counting -- to 4, more precisely. I count my footsteps, and I have to end them on a number equally divisible by 4 (or sixteen, because it's divisible by four, four times, ain't that great? It's my second favourite number. Never twelve though, that's only three, and three's a number you don't even want to get me started on), and I have to start with my left foot and end on my right, otherwise I feel like I have to shuffle my feet to make it all "even", if that even makes any sense at all.

/For example, when I was still eight through ten or so, I had to step with my left foot once, then right, then right, then left, then two lefts, two rights, two rights, two lefts, two lefts, two rights, two rights, two lefts, left, right, right, left, right, left, left, right, both, both, both, both (all with my toes, then repeat with my heels. Then heels, then toes again. Then repeat in the opposite manner) -- I had to do that every day if I wanted to be "free" from counting my steps for the rest of the day./ Thank God I slowly buried that need. Reading this, you probably think it's crazy that I remembered the pattern -- well, that's because it dominated my every day for a good three years straight.

What drives me insane the most nowadays is that I can't stop myself from counting even my blinks! I have to group my blinks into fours or it doesn't feel right and I'll spend God-knows-how-long blinking like an idiot trying to even it all up if I get distracted and lose count. It's become like second-nature to me, but with all the over-thinking I do, I'm going out of my mind! Even right now, I can't focus on what I'm typing because I keep prodding at my stupid stylus that's slid into its compartment (the blunt end is rounded and slightly protrudes. It's not noticeable unless you touch it, which I can't keep myself from doing every gd three seconds). That damn stylus is only one example of what's constantly running through my mind. Another thing is because I can't stand it when two objects or whatever are touching, resting on a crease or crack, or just too close or far apart from eachother. The thing can be perfectly fine in my book, but if a passing feeling says "that's not right", I have to move the damn things all over the place until that feeling is satisfied.

If something (like the annoying textures on plastered walls) catches my eye, I have to touch it the right way and with the right pressure with my middle finger and then rub my fingers together to get the feel off of it. If I try to ignore any of these feelings to move/touch things and whatever else, or if it's impossible to do any of it, the thoughts all practically HAUNT me until I finally forget about them (which sometimes takes days. Or until something else catches me eye) Like I said, second-nature by now, but writing about what I think right now has actually got me reflecting on everything I do every day. I can't stand this. I'm moving on to another topic now.

I have this horrible voice in my head that feels like my conscience, but I can't control anything it blabs, and it doesn't stop at right/wrong. I could be playing a video game or just thinking to myself, and it's always there yelling contradictions at me. Even right now it's going: "Yeah, right, Chelsea! It's not everytime! You're just saying that--" (I'm not surprised that it drifted off there, it usually does when it's about to list reasons for it's intrusion) And the fact that that voice refers to me in the third person, even when I'm indulging it in its insisted conversation, is all the more annoying. It'll blurt out in my head mean things about my family -- and bad scenarios involving them -- completely random things that I would never intentionally mull over, but I can't stop them. It's constantly calling me a liar, even when I know I'm telling the truth. But when I think something horrible about myself, it's all: "Now you get it, stupid."

I can't keep doing this. I'm a teenager! Aren't teenagers supposed to have fun, have friends, and live while they're young?? I have absolutely no friends. Whatsoever. I've been homeschooled all my life (save the first grade) and don't associate with any neighbourhood kids at all, I've never chatted online in my life, and I never leave the house. That's a whole other matter, though. One I'll get into later I'm sure, cuz writing all this down kinda feels good, now that I think about it. I live too far from any stores or places to walk, so I basically have no contact with the world other than my family's religious meetings twice a week (I'm one of Jehovah's Witnesses).

The fact that I have no friends at our religious meetings is really my fault -- and I have absolutely no issue admitting that, as far as blame goes. I'm afraid of people. I'm always nervous, around ANYBODY. I'm even anxious around my family, and it never used to be that way. I feel jumpy and strange, like I'm about to be attacked. All the teenagers at our meetings are fun. They're friendly, polite, respectful, great kids. They always try to talk to me and get me to go hang out with their group, go camping, get lunch, etc. But I'm just too scared around people to talk to anyone. I get physically sick at the very thought of standing in the same room with everybody. I have no doubt that I've stuck out as weird around them, or anybody for that matter.

The reasons I don't leave the house anymore is directly above, coupled with the fact that I have absolutely no motivation anymore. I used to love going to family BBQs, day trips to the beach, sleeping over at my grandparents' house or my aunt's house, but not anymore. Now, whenever anything like that comes up, my first thought is: "UuUughh.... can I just stay here....?" I practically LIVE in my bedroom, lights off, door locked.

I also have four brothers and sisters (19, 7, 4, and 3), plus two cousins (like brothers) my age staying with us while their dad gets help, and we live in a 4-bed / 2 1/2-bath with the largest room being ten-by-eleven, so you can imagine what state my nerves are in at this particular point in my life, concerning my no-touchy deal.

My family is my life, nothing will ever change that. But I feel so horrible all the time that I feel like I'm missing out on it all. I'm scared to DEATH of getting older, more so than people, privacy, uneven blinks or footsteps or things touching all put together. I've had a total of four panic attacks in the past three years over the matter. I'm not even seventeen yet, but all I can think about is that I'm going to be eighteen next year! People move out when they're eighteen, and I can't do that! I can't even think about it because I'll start hyperventilating, I know it. I've been a "kid" all my life, I don't know how to be an adult! I don't want to at all. I want to lie right here, in my bed, in my bedroom, surrounded my my familiar belongings forever, knowing that my mom and dad are right down the hall in their bedroom, that my older sister is right next door to me, that my little siblings are another door down, and that my cousins/brothers are downstairs in the living room sawing logs. I want to know that my grandparents are always going to be around to be my heroes, my aunt and uncle with my other cousins/brothers, are always going to live down the street from them, and that my life won't have to change.

I can't believe I get this scared over the very thought. I've started crying already. I feel like I'm shaking right now even though I know I'm not really. This is the strongest fear I've ever had, and since I can't stop time, my only option is to find a way to feel good about growing up, right? I already know this, but there's no way it feels possible at this point. I would give anything, ANYTHING to not feel this fear. It kills me, my stomach feels like it's about to collapse inward. I feel like I'm going to throw up, just from typing this.

I used to disregard the idea of suicide. I would consider it, but just as a surface thought. Whenever it got any deeper than that, instinct or whatever would take over and the voice would yell at me: "Yeah, right, that would mean DYING, Chelsea. Get real, you dumb***." And I believed it. I didn't want to die, I just wanted to feel like I had options. But now, whenever I think about suicide, the voice is gone. No contradictions, no accusations about my being a liar, no fear of actually dying.... Now it's just like: "I wonder what would be fastest without hurting..?" I don't fear it the thought at all. And that scares me.

I haven't for a while, but I've cut before. I've used a blade from a box-cutter a few times. I'd slice my fingertips down because I knew that it would always hurt, always heal, and would bleed the fastest. I mainly wanted to see the blood, I don't really know why though. It just kinda made me feel like I was there, you know? Like I was still human no matter how I felt. The first time I cut them I just sat there and stared at them for a long time. I didn't know what I was supposed to feel, but somehow, the fact that I felt nothing at all is what appealed most to me. For a few moments in my life, I actually stopped thinking, stopped obsessing, stopped analyzing, stopped everything, and just watched my own blood run down my fingers. I never understood why people cut until that night. To not hear that damn voice in my head, and to just hear the ringing of my own ears.. It was indiscribable for me.

I consider myself to be very secretive. I don't do anything that requires I hide it from my parents, but with everyone I have around me constantly, having secrets is practically what keeps me going. It makes me feel like I actually MIGHT have a life. Other teenagers have secrets, right? My mom would always hide her Def Leppard tape from my gramma when she was a teenager. And whenever my gramma would find it, my mom would buy another and hide it again. My parents know of NOTHING I'm actually interested in, or write about, how many books I've written, or quite possibly what my favourite colour even is. I don't do anything on the internet that my parents can't watch me do (my conscience is too strong to even consider it for myself), but I don't let them watch me anyway. I've taught myself enough about computers and its soft/firmware to cover anything I do, but it's all just to make me feel confident. A long stride, but you have to grab what you can get, right? At least, that's how I see it. My mom knows she can trust me, so she never really questions what I do on the computer even though it's a dangerous place. I love that trust, and I would never abuse it, so mom, if you ever read this in the future, know that your faith is well-placed and your lessons, well-learned.

Even though the voice would verbally back-lash me if I were to ever directly lie to someone's face (it just waits for me to actually be a liar so it can have a field day), I am very guilty of deceit. It's not something I would admit to myself, but writing all this down has somehow gotten me to be honest with myself. I've learned how to manipulate my words to construe an untruth without technically lying, and I do it well. I hate myself for it, but unfortunately, we're all imperfect, right? Yeah, I wish it ended there for me. If you could only HEAR what the voice is throwing at me right this second -- I don't know how much of myself I can take anymore.

I don't know if I've covered it all.. but I feel like everything I've written so far couldn't hold a candle to why I feel it. This might be a huge change of topic, but I'm gonna go ahead and start on only one main reason I always feel like crap nowadays.

Joe is my dad. Not my biological dad -- his name is Barry -- but he's been the closest thing to a father to me in eight years. Barry cheated on my mom when I was six months old, and my older sister Kristyn was 2. My mom says that Krist and I visited him when I was 6, and I remember sitting by him in a car while he watched some movie on his laptop (some visit, huh?), but nothing else. Then, suddenly, after sixteen years, the guy shows up on facebook and friend requests me. He says that he knows I'm mad, and that he always regretted not being a part of our lives.

Scratch that. You know what he really said? "I've always regretted not being ALLOWED to be a part of your lives." ALLOWED. He walked out on my mom, my sister, and me and moved to Florida before he was even allowed to leave the state, dropped off the face of the Earth for years, became a registed sex offender, and not once did he send any mail, or make any attempt to see us.

It's been part of our history for years, what went down between him and my mom, and now he shows up after sixteen years and decides now is a good time to deny it all. He claims it was mom's idea that he never see us again, that he did NOT cheat on her, and that mom's been deleting his e-mails sent to us. My mom has never been anything but encouraging to us if we ever decided to see him or contact him in any way. So he can go you-know-where and warm his toes.

So here is on facebook, and that's where I realize.... who's this in his profile picture with him....? He got married. His wife is almost as beautiful as my mom. But what really killed me.. were the two little kids sitting on his lap. I went through his pictures on the page, and saw those kids' birthday photos. They turned two not long ago, but he'd been married for some time.

His two new kids? They have me and my sister's names.

I didn't mention them, but I ignored his friend request and haven't said anything to him since. All I can think about is: when did he decide he was ready to be married..? And have kids? Why didn't he find mom if he was finally ready? Beg her to take him back? We could've been a family, grew up all together and loved one another. But he just got his life together, built up his own version of what happened all those years ago, got married, and replaced me and Kristyn with two new little kids that would grow up under his wing, learning sports with him, learning how to read with him, swim, ride a bike, fish, go camping, read books....

But now, whenever someone comes up to him at a reunion and asks to see pictures of his two angels.... he'll smile warmly, open his wallet and unfold a half-dozen photos of his babies, and those babies will have our names. But they won't be us.

Because we don't exist. We were a part of his past life that he never cared enough to stay in, or come back to. He just wanted to start over with all new replacements and forget we ever happened. It makes me ashamed of my first word.

But you know what? I hope for those little kids' sake that he does have a good life this time around.

Replacement seems to be a big thing in my life. I suppose it's one of the main reasons that I fear growing up. I feel like my little brothers and sister were only born so that my mom could replace me and Krist when we got too old. She says that that's not true, but at one point when I was very upset and brought it up for the first time, more or less her exact words were: "That's right, Chelsea! Why is that so wrong?! I had two babies because I know that it won't be long before you leave me. So I'm filling my life with more children who won't leave me!"

At that point I'd heard all I needed to hear -- all I could handle. Weren't her words roughly the exact definition of "replacement"? Why couldn't she just be happy with the fact that she raised us so well that we COULD leave when the time came? Now all I feel is the inclination -- no, the NEED to stay. Because of those kids, I can't handle the thought of leaving this house, leaving my bedroom to them, to replace me in her life while I try to make it on my own, alone!

Then, almost a year later, she and dad (Joe, now) told us that she was having another baby. It kills me think about it, but I didn't even smile. I left. I closed myself in my room and cried myself to sleep. Usually I'm paranoid about people seeing what I'm feeling, but at the time, I'd stopped caring. I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted to stop feeling mad a her and dad -- the voice kept yelling at me to, too -- but I couldn't even hear the voice when I was crying like that. If that were to happen now, where I could cry so hard that it would drown out everything in my head, I would welcome it, but at the time I could barely breathe, that's how much it hurt.

When that baby was born, I admit that I resented him. Deeply. I didn't want to hold him, I didn't want to look at him, or give my mom bottles when she asked me to mix them. I never once used his name. I called him the baby. Somehow, over the years that morphed into Bubbie (which is now considered his nickname). This is going to sound ridiculous and exaggerated, but I swear on all that I've ever known, know, or will know, that I have never ONCE called him by his name. He's three now, and I've still never called him by his name. When he was born I resented him so much (not to the point of hatred or being mean to him, I would just decline to hold him, stuff like that) that I couldn't bring myself to use his name. I'm sixteen, he's three, I should be over that, but I'm not. I can't say it. After all this time, even though I love him to death, and I no longer resent him, it feels like a bad word to me. Saying his name (whether when alone, on paper, to other people, or even in my mind) it feels like I'm dropping the f-bomb, or I feel like I'm saying something dirty. That's how I know that I'm not exaggerating or that I've ever slipped it.

It would be like any one of you calling your baby the f-word like it was their name. Wrong, dirty, shameful. I can't think it, I can't even type it, that's why you still don't know his name after all these paragraphs. Of course, if someone I don't know asks me my youngest brother's name, I try not to cringe when I spit it out, that's how stupid I am with it.

All in all, everything I am that I hate all comes down to things I can and can't admit. That said, the real problem is when the voice calls me out on those things, and there's nothing I can say that satisfies it as the truth, even if it IS the truth. It's tearing me apart from the inside out, and there's nothing I can do or say to slow it down.

After all this, I feel like I still haven't even scratched the surface. The voice is telling me right now that: "You could help yourself if you tried, if you really wanted it. You're just not trying at all. You just feel bad for God-knows-what-reason, since you have it all, and you're looking for something to blame it on." Like nothing I just said even matters! Like none of it ever matters!

"And there you go again," it just said.

I'm so tired. And I'm so tired of being tired. I'm sitting here in my bed, I wrote this in four, maybe five hours (since I began at two-ish and it's now 6-something in the morning), it felt worthless at first, felt good in the middle, and now, at the end, I feel like crap. Like it was all for nothing. Because nothing in my life is going to change, no matter how much I analyze past situations, waste my time constructing scenarios in my stupid mind, think of things I could say to my mom -- or anyone -- for help, or promise myself that living will be easy.

I know how to hide it all apparently, or else someone would notice. If anyone I know were to read this right now, they would never guess it coming from me. Because they don't care enough to look for it, and I don't care enough to give a damn if they do. What good would that do anyway? "I'm so sorry you feel this way, let's just wait it out a few weeks and see if you feel the same way then."

I've been this way for almost seven years of my life. I can't remember the last time I had a good thought about myself. What could a few weeks possibly do for me now??

There's no way that I can ever make myself really trust someone. No one is perfect, so what people are there really left to count on? That said, I feel so exposed writing this. Like I've just given away everything, every secret that I hold close, to the world to examine and judge and criticize. Secrets like these can't be taken back, or explained away. It's like ink in your brain, it stains your image of the person from whom they came. I still kept some for myself, just in case. I wouldn't've been able to handle it if I'd given it all away, as anyone might feel. I almost wish I'd wrote them down while I was feeling it, but I'm also glad that I didn't. A person always feels differently about a matter during the day than at night. I don't know why, but surely that can be vouched for.

I might not have forgiven myself. I fact, I know I wouldn't have. I might've even tried to create new secrets to make up for the ones I'd've given up. I've had all these for so long -- just these -- that who knows what I might've done to stock up on more just to make myself feel secure.

It wouldn't've been the same, and then, in the end, I would've become the very change that I'm so afraid of, I guess.

Ha! Listen to the voice chew me out for THAT revelation.

[Obayan]

((( belle )))) i'm so sorry there is so much you are going thru. If it helps any, i could too. In 3's. Always have. And my growing up wasn't so pleasant either. Have you spoken to a counselor at all?

[Belle081]

Hello Obayan, thank you for replying to my post. No, I've never spoken to a counsellor, and I sorta doubt I ever will. I can't handle that kind of confrontation with another person.

Thanks again, Belle

[Obayan]

If you are afraid to talk to them or it's too difficult you can go somewhere you feel safe and wite it down. Get it all out on paper like you did here. Then just give them what you wrote. It will help to open a lot of doors to communication. And remember, the therapist is just a tool. Just like medication, therapy, exercise, proper diet.... these are all tools that are there for us to use.

[Belle081]

Hi Obayan,

..I don't know if I could give another person my writings face-to-face.... it felt different here because I knew that I wouldn't see anybody. To go see someone and just know that they know everything about me and what I'm thinking.. it's unnerves me a bit. If push comes to shove, I might consider it.. but I was sort of hoping that I could bypass that option by using this site

(Thank you for caring Obayan. To be honest, I didn't really expect to get any replies to any of my posts. I deeply appreciate whatever advice you can offer)

[Obayan]

Belle, you will find many good people on here who really help a lot. Have you tried our chat room we have? Lots of good support in there too.

[dearie_yeesh]

Hey Belle,

i would advise that u try talking to someone. I think sometimes when we go thru things/emotions which are not wat the mainstream society expects of us, we tend to over-analyze stuff.

For me, i took a few online test and read up on my symptoms first. After that, i visited a psychologist to confirm my thoughts.

If u are uncomfortable with that, u can try some alternative means. I am not sure what the other methods are. For me, I was on medication for about 1 year but i stopped after taking on some meditation classes. During that period, i also took up a lot of sports so as to take my mind off things.

For me, meditation and sports really worked out well. See if those work for u as well.

Take care!
Yeesh

[pablos]

((((Belle))))

I am sorry you are having to go through this. I too fear talking to someone. I find it hard to reach out for help because I am afraid of what other will think. I also assume others are not available or will not understand. But when I do find someone to talk to, I feel better. What others have suggested in this thread are good suggestios.

I have found that a good counselor will not be harshly confrontive. The have helped me in three ways; one they listen, two they are supportive and three they make suggestions.

You can do it in your time and way.
Peace,
pablos

[Obayan]

Some very good advice guys. I hope you try the chatt room here as well. It's open 24/7.

[Belle081]

Thank you all so much for your suggestions and understanding, it means a lot to me. I've tried entering the chat room but, knowing how technologically challenged I am (haha), I couldn't keep up with everything being written. I'll keep trying though, I like everybody here so far.

Thanks again - Belle

[Obayan]

If the chat in the chat room goes too fast, you can slow it down by increasing the font. I use a font of 20.

[Belle081]

Hi again, I'm writing this because I don't know when's the next time I'll be visiting again. I wanted to say something about my gramma, one of the most important people in my life right now (always actually).

Her name is Cindy Jane Lackett, and she's the most comfortable, loving, funnest, most understanding person you would ever want to be around. She's the only one to whom I've ever said anything about my feelings and my situations. She loves video games -- even has a big collection and systems -- and making jokes and bad puns in every conversation just to loosen people up and see them smile.

She loves to swim, watch Deal or No Deal, do complicated 3D puzzles, sit outside.... She's my role model, and my second mother. I am one of sixteen grandkids (all of whom I'm close to like siblings) who love to stay the night over at her and my papa's house since we were kids. The oldest is going to be twenty-one next year and he still asks to sleep over and swim. We're all still just kids there, and to eachother.

I've never in my life been mad at her and I respect her like no one else. No words can describe how much she means to me. I would die before I saw her die first.

I'm writing all this because I just found out this morning that she was diagnosed with Pulmanary Fibrosis, and the span on that is supposedly five years. The thing is, she's been sick for a few years so we have no idea how long she has. I haven't said anything about it and no one talks about it, but if she goes, I don't know if I have any reason left to stay either. I've never been more serious about something in my life.

She lives about fifteen minutes away and we've driven there every other day for years because we love both of them so much and my whole family (I have a big, big one) goes there regularly so it's easy to stay close with them all. I can't believe I ever asked to stay home from going. I can't believe I am so selfish for ever asking that. I would rather be a nervous wreck than miss another visit again.

I'll never forgive myself for thinking about myself when I just should've visited with my family every time. I hate that.

Like I said, I don't think I'll be visiting again after posting this, so I want to take this opportunity to thank you all for the caring replies I've gotten when I didn't believe I would get anything. Bye.

[findingmyself]

We have a few things in common. I was obsessed with counting as a teen. I counted in fours my steps up to 16, then started over. I had no idea why I did it. I stopped in my early 20s.
I also suffered from a lot of depression in my teens. After decades of experiences, here is what I figured out that I can share. Take it for what it's worth to you. I mean no offense. It's only my personal thoughts.

I also suffered because of sibling rivalry. I was the baby and my siblings were gone before I was that old, but God I remember the hell they put each other through, treating each other like they hated one another. It goes on decades after the fact...and for what? Here is what I evaluated when it comes to kids and sibling rivalry:

What I see with the youth of today, is they have far less to live for as far as goals, are thrown in front of TV, and today computers, being jaded by all the wrong things, and still they are expected to thrive. There is no sense of working together as a team. Each family member tends to do their own thing...as long as it fits into the mold of what we are meant to become. There is little nurturing of a child's specialty gifts and, public school is a place where you go where you are stripped of your individuality and true will. Only the chosen few are actually special. When kids go home, their parents are typically so exhausted from working hard for things supposedly to, "make their lives easier", that they don't take the time to let children know how important they are. That, or they feel so bad for the little time spent and give children Prince and Princess disorders (making them feel like royalty, then taking the crown away when they go into the bratty stage at about 12) turning them into humans with killer entitlement issues. I don't know how you were brought up, so I can only generalize.
To make matters even worse, you have horrendous hormonal swings naturally. We all did at that age, and some of us always do. Then if you also eat soy-based foods, like in some fastfood and all school hamburger and chicken nuggets, you're getting loaded down with an estrogen inducer. Basically, it's like being on the rag all the time. If you eat a lot of sugar, you can have mood swings from hell. If you eat too much sodium without exercise it can deplete your body of potassium, causing mental and physical lethargy. I don't know your diet, but if you're like many teens with the cheesy poofs, soda, and fast food, it's worth going through the withdrawals for a month to get your life back. NO teen should eat fast food meat EVER! The hormones made to create fast growing and quick to the slaughter chicken and beef, wreck havoc on us all, but especially a growing kid. I learned this late in life. But I don't know your diet. You could be a health food nut.
You're going through a lot just living in the world of today, and then you get yet another new sibling. Not only are you likely left with the already lonely feeling of being a teen of this era, and sharing time with other kids, now you share the spotlight with yet another child. Anger likely comes from fear that sibling could grow up to outshine you and take away even more precious parenting time you feel you were meant to have. We usually resent that which intimidates us. My own children have done this to an extent. My son's behavior changed after my daughter was born. We've had to have them live separately most of the time for the sake of all of our sanity. My parents made the mistake of saying to one of my sisters, "Why can't you be more like...", and to this day those two sister do not speak due to hell from their childhood.
Tell yourself every moment that it's not that child's fault it's in the world. That baby will be around when your parents are gone. If someday your husband tells you he's leaving your for someone else, you get laid off from your job, you're losing your house, and your friends tell you to go fly a kite, your sibling will be the only one who will give a crap about you. We're lucky to have good friends, but only family feel a sense of wanting to help us unconditionally. However, if you inflict hell on earth on this little child just because you're afraid to share your world with him, you will live to regret it. You want to talk about depression, just wait until you're 50 and have to look back at what you did to your baby brother. Learn restraint now before it's too late. I'm not asking you to feel love if you don't, just restraint. Here is what I've told others about family members you might not like, "Where there is not love, replace it with pure logic". Never allow yourself to act outside that logic. Sometimes, it's all that can be expected of us.
Don't be anything you are not. Just don't harm the innocent. That is something you may find impossible someday to take back. That child is being told it's adorable and cute, while you're the teenager. But believe me, you were told you were adorable and cute to, and just like you might not get the same attention he does, he'll lose that amount of attention too when he's older. The cute little puppy phase doesn't last once the backtalk begins. Let the little guy have his moment. Every child deserves what they can get. I know you wanted to be loved longer, like a young child would be. Some of us are lucky enough to know that kind of love from our parent into our adulthood. Other parents are ready to give us the boot at 18. Whatever happens to you, don't let what is happening now, become who you are. If you're alone, maybe you need the time to figure out who you are. Use the time wisely. Don't dwell on the hell. Dwell on what you will do to achieve happiness in a few years when you don't have your family to help you at all.
Someday, you'll likely have children too. Learn from your own feelings and perhaps you can prevent your own kids from putting you through it.
You have a few more years and you can get out and be the center of someone's attention again who will love you. Be sure you give that person you chose to spend your life with a kind hearted mate and Mother to children of your own. Let the hate go.

Goodluck to you.

PS. If you have no friends at your place of religious worship, maybe you're following the wrong belief system? Just a thought.

[Obayan]

Sending you a warm hug. I hope it helps.

[dearie_yeesh]

With my own personal experience, it's important to have a good support network when u are trying to fight depression.

I know it's not easy but if u can, find someone who u can really really trust (a close friend or family member) and talk to him/her about it. I think it really helps.

And of cos, i mentioned it earlier as well, when i don't have someone to talk to, i then go do some sports or meditation. They both took my mind off the matter.

Lastly, one of the things i found really useful as well was to provide "help" for others with similar problems. At that time, i was very upset cos i had just broken up with my ex and was having a shitty job. I then went to look for forums and sometimes Yahoo! questions on similar issues and provided my 2 cents worth. I think in a way, that's sharing with someone else your problem as well.

Hope this helps!