So, I'm 20. I'm a female. I'm from a small small town in NY called New Lebanon. I don't live there anymore. The place is shit. It's like Radiator Springs, the town in "Cars".
I attempted suicide when I was 18. I was hospitalized when I was found unconscious. It was the scariest thing I've ever encountered and I would never want to go through it again.
I didn't know much about "depression". I hardly believed in it. A lot of people, especially teenagers, use mental illness to gain attention, and it's so shitty and disgusting and wrong. So I would never say I had a mental illness.
But my doctor did.
So I was like, well fuck. Alright, I just won't tell anyone because I don't want to seem like one of those cunts who uses their MI for attention. I don't want to get into that crowd, no thanks.
I always thought depression was something that went away, or could be cured. I thought it was like a sickness, where you just take medicine or give it time and it'll go away.
Fuckin' WRONG again.
Well this depression began (from what I can last remember) seven years ago. I was physically (and verbally and mentally) abused by my stepparent. She did unspeakable things to me, and I'm afraid of her. She hurt me and forced me into things and made me stop eating. She lied about me and made fun of me and threw things at me and called me names I wouldn't even dare to repeat. She pushed me, yanked my hair… My Dad used to abuse me to, but only if he was really angry or drunk. The few times I said something, I was punished, harshly.
I remember when I was 16, my father caught me drinking bleach. He picked me up off the floor and held me by my neck and told me I was stupid.
Because of this depression shit, I've lost most of my memory. I've also endured three traumatic brain injuries in two years, so that has also played a part.
I have a decent life. I live alone, I have a boyfriend who SPOILS me to shit, and calls me princess and just fucking loves me so much I don't even know what to do or say half the time. I love him more than words can say, and we take care of one another, always. My job pays good, but it isn't always a positive environment…
Anyways, I wrote this because my depression is in and out. And when its in, it is IN. It goes to an extent, and then it wanders away.
But right now, I keep thinking about dying again… About not being here… Because I feel like I am a burden and it's strange being 20 years old and constantly hating yourself. I don't think I ever lifted up after the past six years of being kicked and hit and yelled at and threatened…
I guess I'm just not sure what to do anymore.
I feel guilty and shitty because there are people that have it SOOO much worse than I do, but I can't help but want to just put a gun to my head or a noose to my neck… I don't WANT to feel this way.
I don't want to do this, but my brain is telling me to. I just don't know what to do anymore.
I don't even know why I wrote this.
I'm 20. I really don't fucking know.