My Life Story Concerning DepressionPeople that have known me for a long time know I've struggled with depression, but what a lot don't know is that, once upon a time, I was suicidal. There were quite a few times that I pointed a loaded gun at my face and just stared down into it, thinking about how all my pain would go away if the gun were to accidentally go off. I even had a large bottle of pills that I kept hidden, thinking I would one day take them all at once. If I were going to try to explain what it feels like to want to die, I would say it is like being trapped in hell where all you feel is pain and loneliness with death being the only way to escape.
Of course I never actually attempted suicide because I probably wouldn't be here today if I had, but nonetheless my depression was a lot worse than I let people know it was. If I recall correctly, my depression was this bad when I was 14 to 17; I'm 20 now, so it's been a pretty long time.
When I was six I was put on pills for adhd and anxiety... and to be honest, I think these pills really messed me up. I remember they did allow me to concentrate fairly well, but they seemed to calm me down a bit too much because during recess and things like that I would just sit alone in a corner staring at the other kids and because of this, I ended up not having any friends. I don't remember much before being put on pills, but I'm fairly sure I played like a normal kid before them.
After a while I started to become delusional and I thought I had "healing powers," multiple personalities, and numerous other things. I even thought I was the reincarnation of Jesus for a while and as my grandpa sat in his wheel chair dying from Lou Gehrig's disease I thought I was healing him just by thinking about him getting better.
I'm not sure when exactly - I'm thinking I was about 11 or 12 by then - but I started to hallucinate as well and started hearing things that weren't there, such as footsteps in hallway when I knew I was alone at home. I remember out of the corner of my eye I would see sticks turn into snakes and while in bed at night the shadows would morph into the silhouette of a person standing in the corner of my room. Often times I would even feel as though insects were crawling up my leg, yet when I'd check there would be nothing there.
Sometime during Junior High I did manage to make online friends. Because these were the only friends I had, I spent all my time on the computer and pretty much became a computer addict. Eventually I did make some friends that knew me in real life, but even then we never spent time with each other outside of school. So during the summer and even during the school year itself I ended up spending all my time on the computer, sometimes talking to my friends from school on msn messenger.
I'm not sure how long it had been happening exactly, but it seemed like for the longest time when I was feeling bad I literally threw tantrums. So when I got upset I always destroyed random things, hit myself, kicked stuff, and in the end ended up crying on the floor. I even recall a time where I got upset during class and stabbed myself in the arm with a pencil - which has left a permanent, light-gray scar on my arm - and other types of self abuse, so I think it is safe to say I had emotional problems at the time. This behavior seemed to last up until I was around 16 or whenever it was that I started turning to writing to let out all my frustrations.
By 14 I had already been thinking about killing myself for a while and when I got a little older it only seemed to get worse. I was even being bullied at this time - this was during highschool - by a kid that would shove me into lockers, punch me, call me names, and try to run over me with his bike, which made my depression worse and made me become afraid of going to school. This is when I started putting the gun to my face and thinking about overdosing deep in a forest, where no-one could find me.
I even opened up to my friends once or twice and told them I was feeling depressed, but each time this drove them away and every time they left I felt devastated. I think they thought I was faking depression for attention or that I was just "overreacting" to insignificant things. So eventually I stopped trusting people and kept most of my feelings to myself, since I didn't want to lose what few friends I had left.
Thankfully I never went through with suicide, however, because eventually I decided I was done taking pills. Every time I went to the nurse's office to take my pills, I would pretend to take them but, in reality, I was washing them down the sink. I even hid them a few times and just tossed them into a garbage can on the way to class.
Years after graduating highschool I am now here posting this story. I still have some issues and yes, there are times where I feel sad again, but my issues aren't nearly as bad as what they used to be. I don't hallucinate, think I have magic powers, want to kill myself, or anything like that anymore, so I honestly think my pills are what had messed me up. But even if my pills aren't to blame, I survived years of depression and my life has gotten better.
If there is any advice I would give to anyone, it is that you should not judge people for being depressed. They can't help it and I think I would have gotten over my depression a lot easier if I hadn't been so alone.