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Hello, there. You're probably saying "Why am I reading this?" or "What's so depressing in her life?" Well, let me tell you how it FEELS like to be depressed. You feel cold ####### You start to not care about things anymore. A part of you dies ####### You see the dark instead of the light. You cry and cry until you're tired of crying. People calling you "worthless" or "kill your own self" or "you should be dead." That hurts, right? For the people who think depression is a joke. Karma is waiting for you. Here's my story.
I used to get abused by my family. I tried to kill my own self 4 times but I failed. My depression started at 8 years old. I know, young. I remember getting my hair pulled by my mother and getting kicked multiple times and punched on my back multiple times, too. I remember my holding my screams in so I won't make noise and I won't get hit again. I remember when I was in school and feeling the pain when she hit me and I couldn't walk properly. I remember crying in the bathroom stall because of my life and I wish it would just end. I was scared of ending my own life because I believed in God/Jesus and the Devil and I still do. When the time came, I decided I don't care if I go to heaven or hell, my wish was to make my depressing life stop. I tried to kill my own self and then I failed. My mother found notes and she cried until it was 3 AM in the morning. The next day (May 7) she put me into a Mental Hospital. I stood there for a month. I remember having friends in there. I remember me laughing with the other kids and talking about who liked who and why we were in here. I was the youngest one in there because everyone was older than me. I remember when everyone was leaving I was the last one left of the group we made. I remember new people coming in and we became friends. I remember when it was my time to leave... I was devastated. I don't know why I told my mother to sign the paper to let me leave. That was when I actually had friends. When I actually didn't get abused and when I actually had fun. I remember when I went back to school everyone was surprised and asked me where have I been. I remember the "popular" kids asking me where have I been and they missed me. I remember one of the boys touching my hand in a weird way and saying Oh my god, where have you been. I thought to myself, you used to never talk to me. Why now? I thought to myself I used to always want to talk with the "popular" kids but when I was in the Mental Hospital, I changed. I remember telling my teachers where I was and what I tried to do and them hugging me tighter than ever and saying that we care about you. I remember my "friends" telling me why did you try to do that!? We missed you and we care about you. But, where were you when I needed help? Where were you when I was crying my eyes out and saying that I need help and I wish I had someone with me? Then, I realized that all of my "friends" were fake. I realized what I was doing when I was at school. I remembered I was hanging out with the wrong people. I remember when my sister cried for the first time saying that she'll miss me. My mother got better a little because she suffers from Bipolar Depression. I finally understand what she was going through, what I did to her. I then realized that it was my fault because I didn't do what she said. My depressed came back because of this neighborhood I live in. The hood. I remember when my sister was seventeen we had a problem in the building and we still do. I remember her fighting a forty-seven-year-old woman and her eight teen-year-old daughter. I remember walking into the room and seeing blood on my sister's fight from the fight. I remember the woman and her daughter getting mad because my sister beat them up. I was seven years old. I remember my sister threatening me and saying that if I don't listen to my mom, I would get hit really bad. My mother just laughed and then in the next 10 minutes she said to me that she doesn't want me to get hit because my sister would really hurt me. I remember thinking I want to get really hurt to end my life. To end all of this. I remember thinking that my family would be better off without me because I ask for too much food and I'm just worthless. I thought they would be better off without me because when we don't have food, my mother has to ask the supermarket for free food and then has to pay them back. I was wrong. My family actually cares about me. I'm still depressed 'till this day but I'm taking my stuff to help me with my depression, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, and sleep.
Thank you for reading ALL of this. Don't be disrespectful to ANYONE, you never know what they're going through and you never know what they would do. Remember, karma is waiting.
Leave comments, if you'd like. If you leave hate comments, I don't care.
- Savannah. |
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tl;dr
Hello, there. You're probably saying "Why am I reading this?" or "What's so depressing in her life?" Well, let me tell you how it FEELS like to be depressed. You feel cold ####### You start to not care about things anymore. A part of you dies ####### You see the dark instead of the light. You cry and cry until you're tired of crying. People calling you "worthless" or "kill your own self" or "you should be dead." That hurts, right? For the people who think depression is a joke. Karma is waiting for you. Here's my story.
I used to get abused by my family. I tried to kill my own self 4 times but I failed. My depression started at 8 years old. I know, young. I remember getting my hair pulled by my mother and getting kicked multiple times and punched on my back multiple times, too. I remember my holding my screams in so I won't make noise and I won't get hit again. I remember when I was in school and feeling the pain when she hit me and I couldn't walk properly. I remember crying in the bathroom stall because of my life and I wish it would just end. I was scared of ending my own life because I believed in God/Jesus and the Devil and I still do. When the time came, I decided I don't care if I go to heaven or hell, my wish was to make my depressing life stop. I tried to kill my own self and then I failed. My mother found notes and she cried until it was 3 AM in the morning. The next day (May 7) she put me into a Mental Hospital. I stood there for a month. I remember having friends in there. I remember me laughing with the other kids and talking about who liked who and why we were in here. I was the youngest one in there because everyone was older than me. I remember when everyone was leaving I was the last one left of the group we made. I remember new people coming in and we became friends. I remember when it was my time to leave... I was devastated. I don't know why I told my mother to sign the paper to let me leave. That was when I actually had friends. When I actually didn't get abused and when I actually had fun. I remember when I went back to school everyone was surprised and asked me where have I been. I remember the "popular" kids asking me where have I been and they missed me. I remember one of the boys touching my hand in a weird way and saying Oh my god, where have you been. I thought to myself, you used to never talk to me. Why now? I thought to myself I used to always want to talk with the "popular" kids but when I was in the Mental Hospital, I changed. I remember telling my teachers where I was and what I tried to do and them hugging me tighter than ever and saying that we care about you. I remember my "friends" telling me why did you try to do that!? We missed you and we care about you. But, where were you when I needed help? Where were you when I was crying my eyes out and saying that I need help and I wish I had someone with me? Then, I realized that all of my "friends" were fake. I realized what I was doing when I was at school. I remembered I was hanging out with the wrong people. I remember when my sister cried for the first time saying that she'll miss me. My mother got better a little because she suffers from Bipolar Depression. I finally understand what she was going through, what I did to her. I then realized that it was my fault because I didn't do what she said. My depressed came back because of this neighborhood I live in. The hood. I remember when my sister was seventeen we had a problem in the building and we still do. I remember her fighting a forty-seven-year-old woman and her eight teen-year-old daughter. I remember walking into the room and seeing blood on my sister's fight from the fight. I remember the woman and her daughter getting mad because my sister beat them up. I was seven years old. I remember my sister threatening me and saying that if I don't listen to my mom, I would get hit really bad. My mother just laughed and then in the next 10 minutes she said to me that she doesn't want me to get hit because my sister would really hurt me. I remember thinking I want to get really hurt to end my life. To end all of this. I remember thinking that my family would be better off without me because I ask for too much food and I'm just worthless. I thought they would be better off without me because when we don't have food, my mother has to ask the supermarket for free food and then has to pay them back. I was wrong. My family actually cares about me. I'm still depressed 'till this day but I'm taking my stuff to help me with my depression, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, and sleep.
Thank you for reading ALL of this. Don't be disrespectful to ANYONE, you never know what they're going through and you never know what they would do. Remember, karma is waiting.
Leave comments, if you'd like. If you leave hate comments, I don't care.
- Savannah. |
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* A part of you dies in your body.
* You feel cold in your body. |
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get a therapist what the heck are you doing putting this on here
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My God, you posted this out of all places.. |
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sloom182Join Date: 2017-06-07
Post Count: 67 |
Yes.
Hello, there. You're probably saying "Why am I reading this?" or "What's so depressing in her life?" Well, let me tell you how it FEELS like to be depressed. You feel cold ####### You start to not care about things anymore. A part of you dies ####### You see the dark instead of the light. You cry and cry until you're tired of crying. People calling you "worthless" or "kill your own self" or "you should be dead." That hurts, right? For the people who think depression is a joke. Karma is waiting for you. Here's my story.
I used to get abused by my family. I tried to kill my own self 4 times but I failed. My depression started at 8 years old. I know, young. I remember getting my hair pulled by my mother and getting kicked multiple times and punched on my back multiple times, too. I remember my holding my screams in so I won't make noise and I won't get hit again. I remember when I was in school and feeling the pain when she hit me and I couldn't walk properly. I remember crying in the bathroom stall because of my life and I wish it would just end. I was scared of ending my own life because I believed in God/Jesus and the Devil and I still do. When the time came, I decided I don't care if I go to heaven or hell, my wish was to make my depressing life stop. I tried to kill my own self and then I failed. My mother found notes and she cried until it was 3 AM in the morning. The next day (May 7) she put me into a Mental Hospital. I stood there for a month. I remember having friends in there. I remember me laughing with the other kids and talking about who liked who and why we were in here. I was the youngest one in there because everyone was older than me. I remember when everyone was leaving I was the last one left of the group we made. I remember new people coming in and we became friends. I remember when it was my time to leave... I was devastated. I don't know why I told my mother to sign the paper to let me leave. That was when I actually had friends. When I actually didn't get abused and when I actually had fun. I remember when I went back to school everyone was surprised and asked me where have I been. I remember the "popular" kids asking me where have I been and they missed me. I remember one of the boys touching my hand in a weird way and saying Oh my god, where have you been. I thought to myself, you used to never talk to me. Why now? I thought to myself I used to always want to talk with the "popular" kids but when I was in the Mental Hospital, I changed. I remember telling my teachers where I was and what I tried to do and them hugging me tighter than ever and saying that we care about you. I remember my "friends" telling me why did you try to do that!? We missed you and we care about you. But, where were you when I needed help? Where were you when I was crying my eyes out and saying that I need help and I wish I had someone with me? Then, I realized that all of my "friends" were fake. I realized what I was doing when I was at school. I remembered I was hanging out with the wrong people. I remember when my sister cried for the first time saying that she'll miss me. My mother got better a little because she suffers from Bipolar Depression. I finally understand what she was going through, what I did to her. I then realized that it was my fault because I didn't do what she said. My depressed came back because of this neighborhood I live in. The hood. I remember when my sister was seventeen we had a problem in the building and we still do. I remember her fighting a forty-seven-year-old woman and her eight teen-year-old daughter. I remember walking into the room and seeing blood on my sister's fight from the fight. I remember the woman and her daughter getting mad because my sister beat them up. I was seven years old. I remember my sister threatening me and saying that if I don't listen to my mom, I would get hit really bad. My mother just laughed and then in the next 10 minutes she said to me that she doesn't want me to get hit because my sister would really hurt me. I remember thinking I want to get really hurt to end my life. To end all of this. I remember thinking that my family would be better off without me because I ask for too much food and I'm just worthless. I thought they would be better off without me because when we don't have food, my mother has to ask the supermarket for free food and then has to pay them back. I was wrong. My family actually cares about me. I'm still depressed 'till this day but I'm taking my stuff to help me with my depression, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, and sleep.
Thank you for reading ALL of this. Don't be disrespectful to ANYONE, you never know what they're going through and you never know what they would do. Remember, karma is waiting.
Leave comments, if you'd like. If you leave hate comments, I don't care.
- Savannah. |
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DuximJoin Date: 2014-07-26
Post Count: 765 |
tl;dr
Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently. |
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I already have on. -_- I wanted to share my story with the rest of the people. Maybe people could actually LEARN something from this. -_- ;_; |
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i learned how to spot a bad troll |
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Hello, there. You're probably saying "Why am I reading this?" or "What's so depressing in her life?" Well, let me tell you how it FEELS like to be depressed. You feel cold ####### You start to not care about things anymore. A part of you dies ####### You see the dark instead of the light. You cry and cry until you're tired of crying. People calling you "worthless" or "kill your own self" or "you should be dead." That hurts, right? For the people who think depression is a joke. Karma is waiting for you. Here's my story.
I used to get abused by my family. I tried to kill my own self 4 times but I failed. My depression started at 8 years old. I know, young. I remember getting my hair pulled by my mother and getting kicked multiple times and punched on my back multiple times, too. I remember my holding my screams in so I won't make noise and I won't get hit again. I remember when I was in school and feeling the pain when she hit me and I couldn't walk properly. I remember crying in the bathroom stall because of my life and I wish it would just end. I was scared of ending my own life because I believed in God/Jesus and the Devil and I still do. When the time came, I decided I don't care if I go to heaven or hell, my wish was to make my depressing life stop. I tried to kill my own self and then I failed. My mother found notes and she cried until it was 3 AM in the morning. The next day (May 7) she put me into a Mental Hospital. I stood there for a month. I remember having friends in there. I remember me laughing with the other kids and talking about who liked who and why we were in here. I was the youngest one in there because everyone was older than me. I remember when everyone was leaving I was the last one left of the group we made. I remember new people coming in and we became friends. I remember when it was my time to leave... I was devastated. I don't know why I told my mother to sign the paper to let me leave. That was when I actually had friends. When I actually didn't get abused and when I actually had fun. I remember when I went back to school everyone was surprised and asked me where have I been. I remember the "popular" kids asking me where have I been and they missed me. I remember one of the boys touching my hand in a weird way and saying Oh my god, where have you been. I thought to myself, you used to never talk to me. Why now? I thought to myself I used to always want to talk with the "popular" kids but when I was in the Mental Hospital, I changed. I remember telling my teachers where I was and what I tried to do and them hugging me tighter than ever and saying that we care about you. I remember my "friends" telling me why did you try to do that!? We missed you and we care about you. But, where were you when I needed help? Where were you when I was crying my eyes out and saying that I need help and I wish I had someone with me? Then, I realized that all of my "friends" were fake. I realized what I was doing when I was at school. I remembered I was hanging out with the wrong people. I remember when my sister cried for the first time saying that she'll miss me. My mother got better a little because she suffers from Bipolar Depression. I finally understand what she was going through, what I did to her. I then realized that it was my fault because I didn't do what she said. My depressed came back because of this neighborhood I live in. The hood. I remember when my sister was seventeen we had a problem in the building and we still do. I remember her fighting a forty-seven-year-old woman and her eight teen-year-old daughter. I remember walking into the room and seeing blood on my sister's fight from the fight. I remember the woman and her daughter getting mad because my sister beat them up. I was seven years old. I remember my sister threatening me and saying that if I don't listen to my mom, I would get hit really bad. My mother just laughed and then in the next 10 minutes she said to me that she doesn't want me to get hit because my sister would really hurt me. I remember thinking I want to get really hurt to end my life. To end all of this. I remember thinking that my family would be better off without me because I ask for too much food and I'm just worthless. I thought they would be better off without me because when we don't have food, my mother has to ask the supermarket for free food and then has to pay them back. I was wrong. My family actually cares about me. I'm still depressed 'till this day but I'm taking my stuff to help me with my depression, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, and sleep.
Thank you for reading ALL of this. Don't be disrespectful to ANYONE, you never know what they're going through and you never know what they would do. Remember, karma is waiting.
Leave comments, if you'd like. If you leave hate comments, I don't care.
- Savannah. |
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it's always someone with less than 10 forum posts meaning no forum experience somehow thinking C&G is the best place to post this
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TimeBurnzJoin Date: 2015-04-21
Post Count: 13433 |
lol'd
i have horrible depression but im not dumb enough to post something like this here
I wonder what grenades taste like | Devin |
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i'm mentally ill as hcll but you don't see me seeking for attention
your username and this post shows that
if you legitimately need help go to an anonymous help line/website and/or seek someone in private
posting about this in public is unwise and unwise here of all places |
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LMFAO IS THIS BAIT, THIS HAS TO BE BAIT
Yup, issa bait
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Hello, there. You're probably saying "Why am I reading this?" or "What's so depressing in her life?" Well, let me tell you how it FEELS like to be depressed. You feel cold ####### You start to not care about things anymore. A part of you dies ####### You see the dark instead of the light. You cry and cry until you're tired of crying. People calling you "worthless" or "kill your own self" or "you should be dead." That hurts, right? For the people who think depression is a joke. Karma is waiting for you. Here's my story.
I used to get abused by my family. I tried to kill my own self 4 times but I failed. My depression started at 8 years old. I know, young. I remember getting my hair pulled by my mother and getting kicked multiple times and punched on my back multiple times, too. I remember my holding my screams in so I won't make noise and I won't get hit again. I remember when I was in school and feeling the pain when she hit me and I couldn't walk properly. I remember crying in the bathroom stall because of my life and I wish it would just end. I was scared of ending my own life because I believed in God/Jesus and the Devil and I still do. When the time came, I decided I don't care if I go to heaven or hell, my wish was to make my depressing life stop. I tried to kill my own self and then I failed. My mother found notes and she cried until it was 3 AM in the morning. The next day (May 7) she put me into a Mental Hospital. I stood there for a month. I remember having friends in there. I remember me laughing with the other kids and talking about who liked who and why we were in here. I was the youngest one in there because everyone was older than me. I remember when everyone was leaving I was the last one left of the group we made. I remember new people coming in and we became friends. I remember when it was my time to leave... I was devastated. I don't know why I told my mother to sign the paper to let me leave. That was when I actually had friends. When I actually didn't get abused and when I actually had fun. I remember when I went back to school everyone was surprised and asked me where have I been. I remember the "popular" kids asking me where have I been and they missed me. I remember one of the boys touching my hand in a weird way and saying Oh my god, where have you been. I thought to myself, you used to never talk to me. Why now? I thought to myself I used to always want to talk with the "popular" kids but when I was in the Mental Hospital, I changed. I remember telling my teachers where I was and what I tried to do and them hugging me tighter than ever and saying that we care about you. I remember my "friends" telling me why did you try to do that!? We missed you and we care about you. But, where were you when I needed help? Where were you when I was crying my eyes out and saying that I need help and I wish I had someone with me? Then, I realized that all of my "friends" were fake. I realized what I was doing when I was at school. I remembered I was hanging out with the wrong people. I remember when my sister cried for the first time saying that she'll miss me. My mother got better a little because she suffers from Bipolar Depression. I finally understand what she was going through, what I did to her. I then realized that it was my fault because I didn't do what she said. My depressed came back because of this neighborhood I live in. The hood. I remember when my sister was seventeen we had a problem in the building and we still do. I remember her fighting a forty-seven-year-old woman and her eight teen-year-old daughter. I remember walking into the room and seeing blood on my sister's fight from the fight. I remember the woman and her daughter getting mad because my sister beat them up. I was seven years old. I remember my sister threatening me and saying that if I don't listen to my mom, I would get hit really bad. My mother just laughed and then in the next 10 minutes she said to me that she doesn't want me to get hit because my sister would really hurt me. I remember thinking I want to get really hurt to end my life. To end all of this. I remember thinking that my family would be better off without me because I ask for too much food and I'm just worthless. I thought they would be better off without me because when we don't have food, my mother has to ask the supermarket for free food and then has to pay them back. I was wrong. My family actually cares about me. I'm still depressed 'till this day but I'm taking my stuff to help me with my depression, anxiety, PTSD, ADHD, and sleep.
Thank you for reading ALL of this. Don't be disrespectful to ANYONE, you never know what they're going through and you never know what they would do. Remember, karma is waiting.
Leave comments, if you'd like. If you leave hate comments, I don't care.
- Savannah.
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UncleAliJoin Date: 2010-06-10
Post Count: 3447 |
tl;dr?
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i appreciate the time and effort you took to post this here and your story, like many others, is very sad and depressing as you said but roblox is not the place to talk about stuff like this, seek help in real life maybe. |
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Okay, thank you. You're the only NICE comment. |
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DuximJoin Date: 2014-07-26
Post Count: 765 |
You are depressed because your mom pulled your hair and punched you few times?
It's called "How to raise a smart and good child", you also get better reflexes.
You are lucky that you don't know my mom so....
Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently. |
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