Summer time has become like a test. I know what you’re thinking, tests are during school but, that’s not the kind of test I’m talking about. My birthday is on June 13th and unlike normal teenagers, I don’t look forward to my birthday. I actually secretly dread turning one more year older. It’s difficult to explain why this is but, I’m going to try.
My battle with depression started at the age of 11. It was my first year of middle school. It was also my first kind-of wake-up call. I mean don’t get me wrong, I always knew I was different, but being young, it never really hit me that it impacted every second of every minute of my fucking life. I was nervous as shit, just like most kids are when they move schools but for one of the first times in my life, I was worried about being “bullied”. My stupid-ass middle school was Strack. (second worst school ever) Ninety-nine percent of the people who worked there were/are illiterate, scum-sucking morons. It took me about 3-4 months to start slipping into the black hole known as depression. Was I bullied? I guess, in a way, I was but, in my mind, it was worse. I wasn’t really picked on, I was just treated as though I was mentally handicapped as opposed to being just physically handicapped. (by the way, I hate the word handicapped) Even though it was only a handful of people, it was enough. I will discuss those people in a later post. Anyway,…….my “bullying” got a little better after 6th grade as those people drifted in and out my life, but they had stolen my voice and my confidence and, my depression got progressively worse.
So, each year I get older, my birthday has become a secret benchmark. Now I’m 16 and, so far, each year for the past 5, my depression has gotten steadily worse. My parents didn’t even know I was depressed until last year, my freshmen year in high school. I focused so hard on hiding it from everyone, that I lost myself. This blog is a last attempt at trying to find myself again.