Am I depressed? I don't know. Possibly. Possibly not. I'm disinclined to diagnose myself, when I know full well how biased I am (and obviously. Who wouldn't be?) towards myself.
However, it can be difficult. Life is difficult. It's full of ups and downs, and sometimes the downs are steeper than the ups, and sometimes the ups are too slight to notice. And when this is the case, it can be so, so hard to continue being happy and hopeful and, well, not-depressed.
And I've been suicidal, too. I've wanted to kill myself.
That's really a difficult thing to say. I've never written that anywhere before. I don't think I have. Not where other people can see me.
I think the first time I consciously wanted to do so was when I was seven, when I first realised what dying really meant. I'd felt curious at the time- I wanted to see what it was like. To me, it sounded like something to be explored, something interesting and new, even if it was so very, very final.
I feel as if I'm confessing something. It's not a crime, and to be honest, then, it was mostly the curiosity (albeit dangerous) of a small child. But I did also know what it meant - and I thought it sounded nicer than where I was then.
And that stayed with me, for nine years of my life. That's both impressive and sad, I think.
I don't know why, but when I was ten, I think I tried to hang myself with a skipping rope. That's... actually really creepy. My younger self was really, really scary. What's more frightening is that it wasn't out of desperation or a bid for attention or even a desire to actually die. It was just... boredom. I wanted to see if I could actually do it. And then my friend came in and I stopped, because I really didn't want to have deal with the questions of why I was standing on a bucket with a skipping rope round my neck.
Thanks, Isa, however unintentional it was :/
And it was the same with the whole self-harm-y/slashing-with-a-knife business that started when I was twelve. Though that wasn't suicidal or being curious, that was me being desperate and taking things out on myself to get rid of the awful feelings :(
I don't regret it. I still have scars, but I don't regret it. I never did. It felt easy and better at the time, and it did help. And they were just surface wounds - nothing too damaging. I sound as if I'm trying to justify myself now - probably because I know people who I know are going to read this and I don't actually know if they'd known. Eep, that's going to be awkward :/
I think that what's slightly shocking, though, is the fact that people saw. People saw it, they saw all of them, and they didn't even raise an eyebrow. Is that normal?
Hell, even my parents saw, and they wrote it off as being an attention-seeker, which is actually kind of painful, to be honest. Who would go that far just for a bit of attention? Is that what everyone thinks when they see scars and cuts that were so obviously self-inflicted? It was just for attention? Parents?
I don't get humans.
Yeah, I know, I am human, but when I see that kind of thing (yes, when; I've seen a lot of messed up people, at least, I have for an urban middle-class sixteen-year-old,) I've never written it off as attention seeking. I've never thought: Hey, they're obviously hurting themselves. Ah, never mind, I'm sure it's not that important, or, What a stupid fuck. They're obviously cutting themselves for attention. Idiot. I have never, ever pushed it to the back of my mind and thought it irrelevant. Why do people do that? I do not understand it. I've always tried to help, though I back off when pushed away, but when that happens, there's not much else one can do, apart from let them know that you're there for them.
It's always so sad.
And frustrating. There aren't enough people who genuinely help. Caring is irrelevant, it's whether they help or not. Though actually caring usually does play a large part of helping.
But some people don't really need people to care, or to help. With some people, it's just a matter of pushing onwards and moving forwards, and running with the pressure as opposed to resisting it.With those people, there's nothing, I don't think, that anyone else can do - the fixing is always up to them alone.
I don't do it anymore. I haven't... cut myself, I suppose (I've never really thought of it as that) since around this time last year. That's the longest I've gone since I first started, so kudos to me, yeah? :)
I haven't thought seriously about killing myself in months, as well. Since... early November-ish. It's getting better. :)
I feel like something off The Trevor Project. (You know, the ad-things, like the clip that Chris Colfer (love that man) posted about things being difficult getting better).
I think things do get better. You just need the right moments - like the right songs, or those perfect snapshot moments where you're laughing and you don't think it's possible for things to be better than they already are, the right jokes and the right memories, those moments where you feel like you've finally succeeded and it's as if you're standing on top of the world.
I know that it doesn't get better for some people. But there's the potential. And that's the most important thing, right? The potential- to improve, to heal, to laugh, to get better. If there's potential then there's hope, and if you have hope you're already halfway there, aren't you?
I want to help people. I want to give them what I'm gaining, I want other people to be happy and alive. It's lovely to see people smile. :)
Smile :) x
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