I was a teenager with depression, I am not longer a teen but since I couldn't find a proper group that had anything to do with the word "was" and " depressed teen " or " I had a bad high school experience" I will put it here.

Lets start with Grade 8. Grade 8 wasn't too bad. For the first two months, I never talked to anyone. I had friends but I just didn't talk at all. I was kinda like Lenny from Lizzy McGuire, where I just used gestures to communicate with people. I ended up gaining friends that where of a popular group. I had one really good friend, Nicki, who was always there for me. Her b!tch friend, Madison, I hated but because Nicki was nice to me, I hung out with her. I didn't like the group too too much, but it was better for me to shut my mouth and hang with the cool kids than to beak off and tell them I disliked them. I don't really know what happened after that. I would try to hang out with her, walk around with her all the time and she would pull my hoodie over my face, pull the strings tight, then run away so I couldn't see where she went off to. After a month, I got tired of it and I couldn't stand being around them anymore. My first words in grade 8 that year where " Nicki's a *****." and that was the end of that.

I gained newer friends shortly after that..Wasn't too fond of them either. I didn't care too much though because they where at least friends who didn't judge me. I sort of came out that year too. We where doing a class on the whole " know your body and what you're going through, birds and the bees" stuff and they started talking about " Lesbians and Gays" I said that I was a lesbian, but never really thought anything of it. I thought the term "Lesbian" was for a girl who liked both boys and girls..I didn't really care , I thought it was just something everyone else went through. No one exactly said anything either. Then, the worst happened. They announced that the school would be closing due to the fact that they had a huge amount of mold growing under the building and it needed to be destroyed and rebuilt. Sucked for everyone, especially for us 8th graders, who needed to relocate into different schools and where most likely going to be split up, which means, friends where forced in different paths. I did go to a school with three of my previous friends..two of them turned out not be my friends afterwards. The other, stuck my my side discreetly which was just as bad.

Moving on to grade 9. Grade 9 was the worst of my high school years. Why? This is where it all started. My depression, anxiety, hate, suicidal thoughts..everything. Why again? Because I decided to come out of the closet. Since it's such a long story, I'll spare the details. I started off with new friends. Friends who never really fit anywhere in school, people who I hung out with and got to know really well. Amanda and Evan. One couldn't ask for anything better..or really..how do I say this? I found new friends. Well, I never exactly jumped from one group to another..It was really odd how I became friends with them, actually. I had seen this guy,as my bus stopped at another school to drop some kids off before the bus headed for mine and this guy with HUUGE liberty spikes came out. I thought, " Cool. I want to be like him." so I did. I did the liberty spikes just like him and went to school the next day. this is where the new friends come in.

One, Amy, came up to me and asked me if I was " Gothic" I didn't know what she meant. I didn't know what " Gothic" was. So, I asked her. she told me. they only wore black and they worshiped Satan. That was easy, I don't believe in the devil so I just pretty much said " okay i can do it" they expected me to be depressed. To be gloomy and act angst which wasn't ever me. But I did it..well, cause they where people who called me a friend. Amanda and Evan and the rest of them all hung out together, eventually I started hanging out with just them and I gained even more friends. I told them flat out, that I was lesbian, because they told me they where bi. I didn't know what bisexual was at the time, but again, they taught me. That's where everything went wrong. The word got out that I was gay and a group of girls started to bully me. The bullying was light at first but it really grew and I slowly started to feel depressed over the course of 2 months.

The first time I ever tried to kill myself was just a mess. I don't really remember it much. I just remember one of my old friends coming into the bathroom screaming " I want to kill myself " again, I had never heard of someone ending their lives. So, I went up to another friend and asked her. She told me all the ways of how someone could kill themselves, so I thought and I said..."well, there's a bridge not too far from here" short end of the story, I didn't even really do anything. I walked half a block down the road and turned around, only to see my friends waiting near the councilors office and at that time, I was brought in. Nothing really happened. I went home that day. My parents pointed out the cuts on my hand saying " Why did you cut yourself. You're not even serious people cut themselves on their arms, not their hands. Quit being fake" that had done it for me. A 14 year old girl with depression and no one really cared. I was an at home in the closet gay from my family and out and not proud gay at school.

The girls started a rumor about how I tried to touch them and kiss them when I never did. In order for me to prove that I was right, I had to lie and tell them that I was straight. I hated it, it inflicted me. I knew that if i had told them that I where really a gay, they would do absolutely nothing about it. Or, so I felt. I hated myself. I hated people around me, so I continued to try and kill myself. Each time, I got better and better at it.

I was eventually pulled out of that school. Moved to a new one and there, I was expelled for obvious reasons, for trying to kill myself. I then was put in a program, that was on the basement floor of a building used for therapy, i did well there and after two years, I had to move on. I moved to another program, then, I was in grade 11. I knew i had to work hard to get to grade 12 and finish school on time but I didn't. I left that program because that teacher was tourcher on everyone. I went back into the same program a year later with a new teacher and finally graduated in 2007.

It wasn't easy at all. Through out the years of high school, from grade 9 to grade 12, I had been admitted into the psych ward or what we call, " the third floor" . It was bland. No one helped me and I got progressively worse every time I was entered. Trauma and hate for myself, mistrust and disloyalty among my family. I couldn't ever wrap my head around it and after many days in therapy, after they kept saying that I would " get out of this " they finally diagnosed me with Schizoaffective Disorder. Then, I knew I wasn't going to get out of it. I knew that it was either be depressed and suicidal for the rest of my life or take medication for the rest of my life. Either way, people had to know about it and it never settled with me. I've tried to accept myself as I am but nothing ever really changed. I've realized that I don't know how to truly deal with it, even though I let everything go from my past..I still have my physical scars. I see them every day, every night. And the worst part is, so does everyone else. I wish I would've thought that out right.
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Jan 13, 2013