WanderingHeart
February 21st, 2015, 11:23 AM
I'm new around here, so honestly I'll just do what everyone else is doing online. I'll post my story:
I'll be honest, I've had issues about the way I looked for as long as I remember. When I was a child I remember every time I looked in the mirror, I'd think: "Okay, I just have to get skinny, then I'll be perfect!" I remember it very clearly.
Later on when I was 10 I was at a doctor appointment where I was diagnosed with depression. The doctor recommended me to treatment. The moment we walked out of the clinic though, I found myself being yelled at by my mother and being blamed for it. I wasn't taken to any sort of treatment, and my depression only got worse. My mom stopped taking me to the doctor, and I didn't figure out until later it was so they wouldn't ask about my depression.
Things were getting worse at home, I was always an outcast at school so I was used to that. But I would sometimes break down crying during my fifth grade year. Sixth grade came around and the boys in my class would make hurful comments at me. One boy would always tell me nobody would ever have feelings for me, want to have sex with me, etc, because of my weight. Now I was only 12ish at the time, what interest did I have in sex?!? Other boys would make comments about my breasts, at one point this one other boy drew a picture to make fun of me for it. Near the end of sixth grade I began to have suicidal thoughts.
That summer my aunt came to stay for about a month, and made things much worse in my family. I started to drift apart from my best friend, constantly telling her I don't want friends anymore. I knew it was because I thought I was going to die. As summer went on I shut myself away from my best friend (she's also my cousin, I love her dearly).
Seventh grade started and I was normally irritated, found myself rarely smiling, always angry and upset. It wasn't even a month into seventh grade that I made the final decision to kill myself. I remember on the day I had wanted to do it, I was extremely happy at school, telling everyone they were getting a big surprise on Monday (it was Friday). It was Friday, September 13, 2013. I came home from school and swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills (I thought those would kill me, I was 12 at the time okay...) And I fell asleep...only to be awoken a few hours later by my mom, who didn't want me to sleep all day. I was forced out of bed an went down, I don't remember much after this as I had just ODed on sleeping pills. I think u can imagine what I was like...my family noticed something had happened to me and I was taken to the hospital, and everything was found out.
After about a week and a half in a psychiatric unit I was forced to go home, which was the root of my problems (other than depression). Things were terrible at home, I wanted to die so badly. I was back at school, I hated everything. I went to the first few sessions of therapy but my therapist honestly sucked, and I ended up quiting after my mom was yelling at me again. I went through seventh grade trying to get over my depression and suicidal thoughts, I got close to my best friend again (although I didn't mean to).
I'm in 8th grade now and I think I'm losing it. I can't feel happy, *at all*. At the beginning of 8th grade my mom took me to the doctor and the doctor recommended therapy for me. Later on though my mom and dad said no, thy weren't going to take me. My mom said there's nothing wrong with me, and I'm just lazy.
My teacher recently discovered how I felt when she caught me writing about killing myself. Now I have to go see the counselor (I think I'm starting next week?) She called my family even though I tried to tell her not to, as I will get in huge trouble and yelled at and everything. When I got home it turns out one of my sisters answered the phone, and she didn't tell anyone about it. She tries talking to me like she's a therapist, and if I don't talk to her she threatens to tell my family. I don't trust her at all. I told her I was going to talk to the counselor a she finally left me alone.
I'm in that position where I'm trying to decide whether I should kill myself or not (don't fucking tell me I have so much to live for). Things are getting bad and I'm losing it. I have an obsession with death and the voices I've been hearing in my head since I was on sixth grade sometimes drive me crazy. I want to die, an I want to die so badly.
I'll be honest, I've had issues about the way I looked for as long as I remember. When I was a child I remember every time I looked in the mirror, I'd think: "Okay, I just have to get skinny, then I'll be perfect!" I remember it very clearly.
Later on when I was 10 I was at a doctor appointment where I was diagnosed with depression. The doctor recommended me to treatment. The moment we walked out of the clinic though, I found myself being yelled at by my mother and being blamed for it. I wasn't taken to any sort of treatment, and my depression only got worse. My mom stopped taking me to the doctor, and I didn't figure out until later it was so they wouldn't ask about my depression.
Things were getting worse at home, I was always an outcast at school so I was used to that. But I would sometimes break down crying during my fifth grade year. Sixth grade came around and the boys in my class would make hurful comments at me. One boy would always tell me nobody would ever have feelings for me, want to have sex with me, etc, because of my weight. Now I was only 12ish at the time, what interest did I have in sex?!? Other boys would make comments about my breasts, at one point this one other boy drew a picture to make fun of me for it. Near the end of sixth grade I began to have suicidal thoughts.
That summer my aunt came to stay for about a month, and made things much worse in my family. I started to drift apart from my best friend, constantly telling her I don't want friends anymore. I knew it was because I thought I was going to die. As summer went on I shut myself away from my best friend (she's also my cousin, I love her dearly).
Seventh grade started and I was normally irritated, found myself rarely smiling, always angry and upset. It wasn't even a month into seventh grade that I made the final decision to kill myself. I remember on the day I had wanted to do it, I was extremely happy at school, telling everyone they were getting a big surprise on Monday (it was Friday). It was Friday, September 13, 2013. I came home from school and swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills (I thought those would kill me, I was 12 at the time okay...) And I fell asleep...only to be awoken a few hours later by my mom, who didn't want me to sleep all day. I was forced out of bed an went down, I don't remember much after this as I had just ODed on sleeping pills. I think u can imagine what I was like...my family noticed something had happened to me and I was taken to the hospital, and everything was found out.
After about a week and a half in a psychiatric unit I was forced to go home, which was the root of my problems (other than depression). Things were terrible at home, I wanted to die so badly. I was back at school, I hated everything. I went to the first few sessions of therapy but my therapist honestly sucked, and I ended up quiting after my mom was yelling at me again. I went through seventh grade trying to get over my depression and suicidal thoughts, I got close to my best friend again (although I didn't mean to).
I'm in 8th grade now and I think I'm losing it. I can't feel happy, *at all*. At the beginning of 8th grade my mom took me to the doctor and the doctor recommended therapy for me. Later on though my mom and dad said no, thy weren't going to take me. My mom said there's nothing wrong with me, and I'm just lazy.
My teacher recently discovered how I felt when she caught me writing about killing myself. Now I have to go see the counselor (I think I'm starting next week?) She called my family even though I tried to tell her not to, as I will get in huge trouble and yelled at and everything. When I got home it turns out one of my sisters answered the phone, and she didn't tell anyone about it. She tries talking to me like she's a therapist, and if I don't talk to her she threatens to tell my family. I don't trust her at all. I told her I was going to talk to the counselor a she finally left me alone.
I'm in that position where I'm trying to decide whether I should kill myself or not (don't fucking tell me I have so much to live for). Things are getting bad and I'm losing it. I have an obsession with death and the voices I've been hearing in my head since I was on sixth grade sometimes drive me crazy. I want to die, an I want to die so badly.