My Story

Hello, my name is Carle Mason, but my friends call me Carl. Here are a few things about me. I have type 1 diabetes, I was diagnosed at 14 a few days after my birthday and I am still currently 14 so it hasn’t been long. I’m 5’1” and proud to call myself short. I have medium long dyed red hair and blackish brown eyes. I’m always told that I have a very nice smile as well. I have two siblings, an older sister named Kelly who is 23, and a younger brother named Billy who is 12. I live at home with my parents, Christine and John. I have two best friends in the whole world, Brynn and Alyssa. I met Brynn when she first moved here in when she was in kindergarten and I was going into first grade. We became friends by talking a lot at the bus stop, seeing as we were the only ones there. We have known each other for almost nine to ten years and have always been and will be best friends, it’s also easy to hang out with her since she just lives across the street. I met Alyssa in second grade and we became friends, she moved away to China in the beginning of fourth grade, but we still kept in touch which seemed to have made our friendship grow stronger. I’m the only friend she kept in touch with after she moved and we never fail to hang out and meet up every time she visits. I go to a choice art school with only 90 kids attending and will begin my freshmen year of high school in the fall. Also I’ve had depression since third grade. This is where my story begins.
I don’t remember much of my childhood all I remember was feeling awful and worthless my whole life. I remember the start of my depression was when my dog, Kingja had died because of a heart attack and that broke my heart, I was really close to my dog he always made me feel better when I wasn’t having the greatest day and was always there for me. He was my first pet and I will never forget him. I remember the day he died, it was a school day and he had gone to the vet in the morning, when I got home he wasn’t there to greet me when I came inside. I found my mom and little brother in the family room and asked where he was and my mother started to cry and get chocked up and the she said he had died due to a heart attack. I remember just denying the whole thing and running into my room and crying the rest of the night oh how badly I wanted him to be there and show me his smiley face. Even know I get chocked up and can’t stand to think that he’s gone even though it’s been many years since then and I have a new dog, Bingo, now and a cat, Ginger, who are amazing pets but Kingja will always hold a big part of my heart.
As I entered third grade with the horrible loss of the best dog ever, I wasn’t as happy as I was but I still wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t till the middle of the year that we had a substitute that was a lot of fun and nice. The next day she had passed due to a heart attack. It was really sad because she wasn’t even that old, only about 50 which was my dad’s age at the time. I remember feeling horrible and scared. It wasn’t until that day that I had a huge fear of death, I realized any of us could die at any moment, but it wasn’t about losing someone that scared me it was the fact that it happened to everyone no matter what and what happens after we die always thought we would all go to heaven and be there forever, forever is a long time I couldn’t deal with it. I started getting panic attacks every time someone said death or dead or brought up the conversation. I started seeing a therapist and the school council for help about it. Talking to them helped a bit but it still didn’t change that fact that we all die at some point and that we don’t know what happens. This was when I didn’t feel happy anymore.

I wasn’t the most popular girl around or at all really, I had three friends but only hung out with one, Mary. Alyssa had moved away and Brynn was a year younger so I didn’t see her as often. Mary was my best friend in fifth and the middle of sixth grade, until someone came between us. Mary was pretty popular and was friends with everyone. She was the happy girl who always dressed in bright colors and I was her goth best friend. Yes I was goth, I dressed in all black and was a loner most of the time. I got made fun of by a lot of people about my weight and how I wasn’t pretty and like most of the other girls. I was teased throughout elementary school but the teasing that didn’t bother me: it was this one girl, Ally. She made my life a living hell. Some days she would be my friend other days she would make fun of me and be really rude and spread rumors. She took away my best friend. Mary hadn’t really liked her for a while and neither did I and I still hate her. She still hates me too and can’t stop telling people that I ruined her even people who probably don’t know me, I’ve moved on and hopefully she can do the same.
The summer of sixth grade going into seventh grade and junior high wasn’t the best. After getting so many rude comments about my weight and appearance I changed. I became anorexic over the summer and lost a lot of weight. I started wearing a lot of makeup even though I don’t wear any anymore, and I started straightening my hair and changing my style and everything. A lot of people noticed and thought I looked pretty, no one had ever said that before, not even my parents. It hurt that it took so much to be the way I am but now I’m not anorexic but I’m slowing fading back into it because I feel fat and I can’t help but eat less and less, but that’s also hard because I’m also diabetic and need to eat a lot more then I usually would. Not many people know that I was, and still kind of am anorexic but the people who do, don’t help.
Seventh grade was probably the best year of my life until I started liking guys. I dated three guys in seventh grade and two of them twice. I had my first heartbreak in seventh grade by my first boyfriend who dumped me over a text for another girl; I didn’t come out if my room that whole weekend. Later in the year he wanted me back and of course I did because I still really liked him but it was horrible, he wasn’t the best boyfriend in the world. When I finally did started dating the best boyfriend I didn’t know until we broke up and I ruined our friendship until recently. There was also one guy who I liked so much, but I’m not actually sure if he felt the same. He liked my friend and my friend liked him so they “dated” I always hung out with them because they were both my best friends and they wanted me to tag along, but I always felt like such a third wheel. Seventh grade I was really suffering from major depression, I had lost my grandma and I couldn’t take it. I was ignored, teased, untrusted, and most of all lonely.
I had finally told one of my close friends about what was going on, big mistake, she made me tell my parents and that ruined my life. They didn’t believe me, they didn’t trust me, and they only cared about my brother. I have always fought with my parents and never really got along with them, they never appreciated me. I do something good, they don’t notice, I miss one assignment, grounded for a week without anything. My brother does something good, praised and congratulated, hadn’t turned in his assignments all year one day without video games. Some people might say that it’s silly to think my parents don’t love me as much as my brother but honestly that’s how I’ve always seen it.

Now in the eighth grade nothing has gone right for me. I’ve suffered more and more each day and I’ve tried to kill myself so many times. I lost all my friends over a guy; I’m still getting picked on. Recently I was just diagnosed with type 1 diabetes five days after my birthday. My best friend is too busy now and my other best friend lives in D.C, she moved from China to D.C. I just wish there was some way to change everything. I lost all my friends I’m failing three classes and I’m suffering. Sometimes all I want is someone to talk to and a hug at the most nothing more nothing less, but I guess that’s asking a lot. Well that’s my story in a nut shell.
deleted deleted
1 Response May 15, 2012

im depressed too and i hate when my parents play favorites its just wrong. they never notice the good unless its not us. i used to be terrified of dieing when i was younger but when i started thinking about suicide that changed, now i dont care. i need help but my parents are impossible to approach and they think im doing it for attention when im not. i have probably been depressed since i was 9 or 10 and it never goes away they think im just a negative hateful person. message me if you wanna talk.