This is inspired by "My Depression" by BuzzFeedYellow
These events are true in their entirety and are in no way a joke.
If you feel you can't take this thread seriously, Then leave now.
Dear Depression,
My childhood Friend. We first met in eighth grade, at the school that was to be my salvation. At the place where my future was supposed to change into something better. My life did change there, but into something the complete opposite. You held me I cried in the washroom telling me that everything was alright. The only problem with our relationship was knowing that you didn't understand to have all this work and stress shoved down your throat. You left me after I went too far. My first suspension. For only death and darkness were the only friends I had left. We met again a couple of years later when my father got a new job. You knew my dad was a pilot, but you did not know how long he was gone. He went for months at a time and only came for a matter of weeks. You still didn't understand because you didn't know what it was like to have parents, you didn't have a father. But you comforted me regardless and pretended to understand my pain. And that was when I knew that we were disconnected, for our visions were completely different. For you did not understand what it meant to be loved. We met for the last time back at that retched school. I threw many fits, but to no avail. My life was falling apart. You still comforted me in my episodes of which I released my demons. But the demons always came back. My fits grew more and more chaotic as the months progressed, panic attack after panic attack my condition grew worse and worse, until. I broke the last straw. The words left my mouth as if I were possessed. I had no control of my words. As I roasted that teacher to stood with her jaw dropped open. You were still beside me, but you didn't speak. You didn't tell me that everything was going to be alright. You just stood and watched as I gave this teacher a glimpse of of what hell was truly like. When I finally stopped, I tried to apologize for what I had done for I had been possessed by anger and fury and that I din't mean a single word of what I said. But it was too late. Being a person of good heart who wouldn't hurt a fly, I feared my punishment, for I was not used to being punished. As I sat in the Student Counselor's office, I could not breath as his words filled my mouth. He played with my emotions like a Ventriloquist for I was the puppet. He weighed down on me, his words slithered under my skin. As I sat there completely afraid, you where still with me, but you were still silent. I felt your eyes burn into my soul. And when the Counselor delivered my fate, you vanished like a ghost. My second suspension. That was the last time I saw you, for death and darkness had returned to attempt to claim my life. Many years have passed. And with the help of my family and many therapists, I had healed. The scars on my skin of which anger and sadness had claimed had vanished into thin air. I have not seen you since. I do not wonder where you are. In fact I have tried to forget about you. I write to you my dear depression because I want you to feel what it is to suffer. I want you experience what it is like for your soul to die slowly. I do not wish to see you again, for you left an empty hole where my heart should be, a hole in which will never heal. I hope you are having fun ruining someone else's life.
Sincerely: Christopher
I am sorry if you had a hard time understanding this. I am on meds right now and am thinking about many different things simultaneously. And if you didn't understand, this is what I meant to talk about:
-My first high school was a private school in the heart of downtown Montreal where I live. Grade seven was fine because I had hope that my bad work habits would change. Th school promised to help me but did the complete opposite. The next year in grade eight, work began piling up and stress began to accumulate. Me and my friends started having rant sessions together to release our demons. But it eventually elevated to ranting directly at the staff. I was the most notorious because my fits were the most intense and out of control. I attacked my teachers verbally, not physically. Remember when I said that they promised to help? They didn't do anything. They didn't give me coping strategies, they didn't attempt to calm me down. Instead, they recommended me to a therapist. They did the same to everyone. As the year progressed, my personality became more and more flamboyant and morbid. I drew pictures of bloody knives and my teachers being decapitated. But you would understand why if you were in my place. It got to a point where it got so out of control that I ended up getting suspended out of school for 3 days. My parents were livid. But my mom was angrier than my dad. My dad understood me. Later that year my dad got a new job to fly one of the world's richest people who lived in Nigeria that was based in the city of Lagos, which has a pretty nasty reputation of being very dangerous. He was gone for months at a time and only came home for a matter of 2-3 weeks. Him being gone had a serious impact on me and my daily life because he was never gone for this long, and also because he's my dad and I missed him. The year after that, my rants at school got more and more intense as I started threatening teachers and Student Support staff. For an example, one time I called the female Student Counselor the word that rhymes with hunt. Yup. Anyway, I eventually got called out by the Support staff that I had taken it too far. So they took me down to the male Student Counselor's office and awarded me with a 5 day out of school suspension, my second suspension. This time , my parents weren't very upset with me, instead they felt bad for me. And gave me fun chores to do around the house that involved painting a giant fake Bonsai tree in our living room, walking the dog, and I was even allowed out of the house with no curfew. After a couple of years of healing, I am now mentally stable and am happier than ever! I still get depressed feelings on some occasions, so I do take anti-depressant medication to help with that. So that is the story of the hardest time in my life.
I hope I have managed to inspire you in some way. I am not going to pressure anyone if they don't want to, but if you do want, write your experience of depression. Just know that you are in a safe environment filled with love and that no one will judge you.
Thank you and have a Meep-tastic day!
~Chris
