A Continuing Battle
When I was 11, my life completely changed after my father died from cancer. When I was little, I had the courage to talk to anybody. After he died, I began to feel very depressed. I would bash the back of my head off of the walls of my house hoping to kill myself, cause a concussion or something. I would throw my body at the wall in my bedroom in hopes that I would break my arms or legs. I used to shut my mouth and pinch my nose in hopes that I would suffocate myself. One time, I took three NyQuil hoping that I would over dose. I used to contemplate cutting myself because I saw it on TV and in the movies. I initially did these things because I was so upset that my father had died. But after a few years, I was depressed for other reasons. I have never been in a relationship and can only imagine what it must be like. Ever since my father died, I have been terrified of talking to people, especially women. One summer, I worked with the most wonderful girl I've ever met. She was beautiful. I always felt comfortable around her and enjoyed talking to her. I found out that she hadn't had the best life either and used to cut herself in the past. I found nothing wrong with that and found her even more beautiful because she knew what it's like to live with hell all around you. Unfortunately for me and luckily for her, she now has a boyfriend who she probably marry. I was in a severe car crash later that year. If I was a little bit faster, I would have died. But I'm glad that I didn't. Although I no longer fear my own death, I'm glad I'm having this second chance. Even though I still feel depressed, I know that my life could be a lot worse.