In the end of the year of 2016, I managed to royally fuck up.
By failing out of my classes and becoming even more depressed (if that was even possible!) I had no motivation to do anything, the only reason I was alive was because if my friends… By the time I found out I was going to the alternative school, the school known for its potheads and sluts, I didn’t even care. I was too far down my bout of depression to even care about living or dying.
There are certain points in a person's life where they think they will die. It may be a car accident, cancer, old age, or suicide.
I chose option four.
I wanted to die and I was ready to die. The only reason for me to still keep living was because of my family and friends. I knew they cared, but a tiny voice in my head always told me they didn't.
I know I had no reason to be depressed. I wasn’t abused or being abused. My parents fought but they were still together. I had a good life. So what was wrong with me? I guess I was just too emotional to function. I had really high days and really low. There were no in betweens. Mentally I was drained. It was too much.
I was cutting every other day,to either not feel or when I was feeling too much I would put the blade to my skin and just not feel anything but pain. I had a hard time passing my classes. I ended up going to the hospital. A “mental hospital”. I don’t like those words, so I say hospital instead. The hospital was called White Pine. I met some amazing people there and some not so amazing people there. We all had one thing in common though-we were all fucked up.I went there the first time because I turned into an asshole. I was just an asshole. No nicer way of putting it.
Turns out I did have something wrong with me. I had BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder) Depression (no shit?) and anxiety (shocker)
The second time I went it was because I wanted to die. I had so many scars, and I just hated myself, my body, my life. So I was admitted again. I never really thought I would get better.
Fast forward to now. I am passing my classes, turning my life around.I’m going back to the High School in January. I spent a year at this school. You may think I’m some privileged white kid who doesn’t know shit about pain, but I do. I know about what it’s like to be awake all night, scared about your future, hating yourself, and cutting up your body to feel something. I know that pain makes us feel helpless, that the sadness will consume us, and we will feel nothing but dread. But my advice to you, whoever is reading this, take that pain, anger, sadness, and use it in a positive way. Make something, create, write, draw, paint, just live. Know this, you can start over each morning. Each morning you can get up out of bed, and choose to be a positive force or a negative one. You can choose your future. Make it worthwhile. My long ass point is, stay alive. Fight. Keep doing what you love in the world. Laugh, love, hate, just don’t give up.
Authors note:This took me two days to write and I would really appreciate it if I wouldn't get hate on it...Thank you for reading !!!!
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