Yeah.... I'm very much depressed. I'm not perfect and neither is this piece.

Please do not read if depression is a trigger for you*

My depression didn't start out of nowhere. I have problems. I have chronic migraines, as well as acute confusional migraines and that basically means I'm in a state of confusion/disoriented when my head starts to hurt. It can last for days and even weeks. On top of that I have crippling social anxiety, extremely low self esteem and insomnia so I'm just a ticking time bomb. My family is dysfunctional in so many messed up ways. So do you blame me? 

Yeah... I'm very much depressed. I noticed that it was so much easier for me to talk to strangers about my thoughts than sitting with family and friends. Everyone can be so judgmental! Openly admitting you're depressed in my family is like admitting to murder. I didn't even mean to tell anyone. You see, I had a journal and I wrote down my deepest, darkest fears and my mother somehow found it. When I came home from school she basically yelled at me and said she didn't raise a weak daughter. She told me that she had it worse and it's nowhere compared to what I'm going through, but does she really know? How could she POSSIBLY know what I'm going through? When was the last time she talked to me? Or said that she loved me? 

A week later my dad came into my room and told me I wasn't allowed to be depressed. It's a myth and that if I ever talked about it again he would show me what it was really like to be depressed. A couple of months after that, my father once again came into my room and told me that I was making my mom "sick" and stressed because I had these feelings. Wow, I'm causing my mother such emotional pain that she fell ill? I kept quiet and my depression and anxiety built and built. I started cutting for release, but I felt like I was drowning. I couldn't breathe.

My breaking point was when my mother told me that I made her unable to eat and sleep. I felt broken. And at that point, I no longer wanted to be someone's daughter or friend. I didn't want to be anything. I wanted to be dead. I wanted to die. That was three years ago. 

I never asked to feel this way. It was just something that appeared on my doorstep and decided to never leave. Depression basically imprinted on me. I never really got help for it because my parents, especially my father, doesn't believe in mental illnesses. Even my migraines he doesn't believe. The amount of times this man would make me drink herbs and grass because a friend or a co worker "had the same migraine" as me. *eye roll* None of these remedies worked for me, not that I'm surprised. I would tell him but he'd get mad at me like I was purposely rejecting the remedies. The amount of crap I endured and the amount of crap I had to ingest. It's just not in his nature to accept that I need a professional. I've done the best I could to pretend that I was fine and that it was just a phase, but at some point a phase is no longer a phase, and depression soon led to suicidal thoughts and those exact thoughts lead to affirmative action. In that exact order I down spiraled. HARD.

I just wanted to pain to stop and I want getting the help I needed and the people who I surrounded myself with hurt me more than I could ever hurt myself. Still to this day I wish I had the emotional support that I deserved when it was all very new to me. But you don't always get what you want.

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