My Story

In middle school, I had a lot of close friends. Friends that I told everything to. I had been friends with these people since the 5th grade, and they knew everything I'd been through from failing a test to finding out I'm going to have a little sister. I thought they would always be there for me, but then in the middle of eighth grade something happened; other people began to know secrets I only told to my close friends, the ones I thought I could trust. Because my secrets began getting out, I realised I couldn’t trust them anymore.

The kids at my school began to bully me. I still remember all the nicknames people would call me, and the awful way that the other kids treated me. I started to get angry. I became so angry that I ended up punching a kid in the face in the middle of the cafeteria. I had lunch detention for a week. Because my mom worked at my school, she found out about my actions very quickly, so I was also grounded at home. I never told her why I hit that kid so she never knew I was being bullied.  Even just looking back on this year causes me to swell with negative emotion. I never realized the impact the bullying had on me.  

The first time I had felt this  negativity was the summer after 5th grade. I spent the summer in New York at a camp I go to every year. I had a friend at this camp named Avery. She was a Year older than me and lived in Pennsylvania, so the only chance I had to see her was at camp. Avery and I did everything together during the summer. We would go hiking and stay up playing board games till the next morning. Avery was being bullied at school, so she always got to camp right after her school ended, about a week before me. When I arrived at camp that year, she wasn't there yet so I called her. She only had a home phone, and when I called Her her mother picked up. I asked if I could speak to Avery, and her mother responded by asking me who I was. I told her I'm one of Avery's friends from camp. Her mom said Avery wasn't home, so I asked her where she was. She replied, “I'm sorry you didn't know. Avery died.” I was shocked, We had just talked over winter break to see how each other's’ Christmas went. Her mother began to explain to me she had committed suicide in May. That day my world came crashing down. Avery’s death was the first major death I had experienced in my life.

The thoughts that came to my mind were “Why her?” and “I can't believe it.” That whole summer I spent time alone listening to our favorite songs and ignoring the world around me. I didn't make any new friends, and I didn't spend much time with my family playing games and having fun. All I wanted to do was hug my friend. I can't tell you how long I was crying. I still cry over Avery to this day.

The feelings I felt after this summer and after being bullied in eighth grade will always be in my mind. I felt broken. I felt like I was drowning but everyone around me was breathing fine, never noticing how I felt. In those moments I felt alone. Even though I was surrounded by people, I still continued to feel alone. I wanted to get rid of these emotions I was feeling so I started to hurt myself. At first it hurt, but it distracted me from the awful feelings I was experiencing. After a while it didn't hurt anymore, it help me feel numb. So I did more harmful things to myself. I remember feeling like I shouldn't be here. I didn't want to be here anymore, so I attempted to kill myself multiple times. I remember one time during the summer after 8th grade I was home alone, and I was in the kitchen and I had a knife. I wanted to just end all the pain right there, but then I heard the garage door signaling me that my parents were home. I began to realize, I shouldn't do that, I am here for a reason.

I was careful not to let my parents know I was doing all of this stuff to myself. My parents didn't find out until 2015. I started to write in a journal toward the end of eighth grade. In my journal, I wrote everything I was feeling and how I handled those feelings. On September 16,  the day before my 16th birthday, my grandma just picked me up from school and began asking me questions. She asked me how I was feeling, and I responded with “Good.” She then asked “Do you feel depressed?” I said no. After she realized I wasn't going to say anything else, she told me that my mom and dad found my journal and were at her house waiting for me. When I walked through that door my mom started crying. In that moment, I couldn't hold my emotions in anymore and I started sobbing. My mother pulled me into a hug and asked why I never told her. Both my parents were more upset over the fact I didn't tell them. After crying for a while my mom asked me who I wanted to take me to the doctors, but I didn't understand why I had to go to the doctors. She explained to me how my mental health was something just as important as my physical health and how I needed to see a doctor in order to see what was causing me to feel like that for such a long time.

After accepting the fact that I truly needed to seek professional counseling, I asked my grandmother to bring because I didn't wanted see my mom to cry anymore. Later that day the doctor diagnosed me with Major Depressive disorder and Anxiety disorder. I had known that I had depression, but had never told anyone. My doctor coming out and saying to my face, “You have depression and need to take antidepressants in order to help control your symptoms,” made everything finally feel truly real. With my diagnosis I finally felt as though I could truly understand myself, I finally had a reason why I felt pangs of sadness and emptiness even in situations where I should have been on top of the world.

When I came to school I immediately told my best friend Alex what had happened, he immediately pulled me into a hug. He became my support system. Through continuously making sure that I take my meds, being there to talk about how I am feeling in that moment, and simply showing boundless compassion in every single way. He is always there to help me, and that means more to me than he may ever know.

I started going to a recovery group at my church later that week. The group helped me to hear other people's stories and share my own. More importantly this group gave me a community.  This group showed me what the Bible says about depression and how to recover. One member shared their experience with the group, and ended with a quote from Philippians 4:13 that says  “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”  This verse helped me to open myself up to Christ and gave me the strength to continue my work. I now live my life through this verse.

2017 will be my 6th year of living with depression and my 2nd year of being diagnosed with depression. I haven't harmed myself in over 2 years and emotionally I'm doing very well. There are moments when the negative feelings are stronger than others, but I always seem to bounce back from them after a short amount of time.

Reviews

[Tazeen Ahmed]

that is so sad and shocking. it is the worst moment experiencing one's friend's death. I was never so strong to even think about quitting and i never do promote it.
Please take care. Stay Positive.
P.S. You've got great writing skills(reflected in your story).