MissKrum
June 25th, 2010, 03:06 PM
I just really need to get this off my chest. It feels like there's no real hope for me any more, in a way. I suppose I should start at the beggining.
My parents divorced when I was seven, due to my father illegitamly marrying his third wife, who was half his age, and getting her pregnant with her first son. I was super close to my dad, and looking back, I never really cared much for my mother; daddy's girl and all. So I guess that was the first straw. I watched my mother go through a depression. Seeing and hearing her cry when she thought I wasn't looking, coupled with the manifestation of the beggining of puberty took quite a toll on me, turning me "emo" through my middle school years and resulting in a familiar and morbid relationship between razorblades and my arms.
Then a few years after that, and a few visits to my fathers house cross-country, and the addition of another son, my father fell victim to his reoccuring battle with brain cancer and died on July 15, 2008.
I fell even deeper into the hole that I had started to dig for myself and traveled deeper into depression. I've heard many people say that I'm a cold person, and that I seem very hostile to others, but truthfully I really jet want all the hurt to stop.
Last summer I expeimented with drugs for the first time, and instead of finding the exprience enjoyable, I had a horrible trip; in which I was trying to search for the meaning of life and thought that I was speeding through every moment of my life in the span of the two hours that I was high. Needless to say, since then I have been quite hesitent on trying anything mind-altering. I have even caught myself in a feeling of pure foreboding that my life was to come to an end that instant.
I apologize I this is becoming novel-like.
I have had many panic attacks since my father died. Some have been so severe that I can feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head from lack of oxygen.
I have also distanced myself from my friends, to the point where when I do actually hang out with them, I feel like an outsider. They are all active drug users, but just being around drugs makes me hyperventilate. I know I am depressed, on the brink of suicide even. My sleep habits have changed, I've been loosing and gaining weight, things that used to make me happy don't anymore. I find that I am by myself more and more, and I really hate it.
I contimplate suicide all the time, and regrettably, I now feel like it's only a matter of time. I feel that sometimes I am getting better, but then again I find my self lonley and not looking forward to my senior year in high school or college.
If you took the time to read this, thanks.
My parents divorced when I was seven, due to my father illegitamly marrying his third wife, who was half his age, and getting her pregnant with her first son. I was super close to my dad, and looking back, I never really cared much for my mother; daddy's girl and all. So I guess that was the first straw. I watched my mother go through a depression. Seeing and hearing her cry when she thought I wasn't looking, coupled with the manifestation of the beggining of puberty took quite a toll on me, turning me "emo" through my middle school years and resulting in a familiar and morbid relationship between razorblades and my arms.
Then a few years after that, and a few visits to my fathers house cross-country, and the addition of another son, my father fell victim to his reoccuring battle with brain cancer and died on July 15, 2008.
I fell even deeper into the hole that I had started to dig for myself and traveled deeper into depression. I've heard many people say that I'm a cold person, and that I seem very hostile to others, but truthfully I really jet want all the hurt to stop.
Last summer I expeimented with drugs for the first time, and instead of finding the exprience enjoyable, I had a horrible trip; in which I was trying to search for the meaning of life and thought that I was speeding through every moment of my life in the span of the two hours that I was high. Needless to say, since then I have been quite hesitent on trying anything mind-altering. I have even caught myself in a feeling of pure foreboding that my life was to come to an end that instant.
I apologize I this is becoming novel-like.
I have had many panic attacks since my father died. Some have been so severe that I can feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head from lack of oxygen.
I have also distanced myself from my friends, to the point where when I do actually hang out with them, I feel like an outsider. They are all active drug users, but just being around drugs makes me hyperventilate. I know I am depressed, on the brink of suicide even. My sleep habits have changed, I've been loosing and gaining weight, things that used to make me happy don't anymore. I find that I am by myself more and more, and I really hate it.
I contimplate suicide all the time, and regrettably, I now feel like it's only a matter of time. I feel that sometimes I am getting better, but then again I find my self lonley and not looking forward to my senior year in high school or college.
If you took the time to read this, thanks.