Hey there, I’m Nicole. I’m seventeen and I live in Canada. I don’t exactly want to give out too much detail about myself, because I’d like to remain anonymous.
I’d like to share my story to anyone who is willing to take the time to read it. Very few people know my story. Everyone wears a mask, and I’ve defiantly worn mine well.
So here it goes, I’ve been alive for seventeen years, four of the seventeen years have been hell. When I first started high school, I became depressed. But I’d never admit it to anyone, nor talk about it, I’d wear my mask. I’d hide how I really felt to everyone. Throughout those four years, several triggering events have led me to become so depressed that I’ve tried to end my life. Not once, not twice, but four times. Someone who doesn’t understand depression would probably say to me “Oh, it’s all in your head, get over it.” You never truly understand depression unless you’ve battled it yourself.
I wen’t three years without telling anyone about my depression, my thoughts, what I had done to myself, and what I’ve attempted. I wore my mask. I found myself wishing I’d die in my sleep, so I didn’t have to wake up the next morning. I literally didn’t care about anything. Except my family. That was my turning point.
I have a younger brother, who is 9 years younger than me. I love him to pieces. I realized how much my brother would miss me if I left him. How much pain he’d feel. How much pain my family would feel, my boyfriend, my best friends. I couldn’t leave everyone behind. They needed me.
One night I decided to tell my parents, I asked my dad and my mom to come into my room because I had to talk to them. We sat in my bed and before I could get a word out I started crying. I didn’t want to disappoint them, I felt guilty for being depressed because they gave me such a wonderful life. I said “I don’t want to say it, guess.” So they guessed.. “Did you and Mike break up?”, “Did you fail a test?”, “Did you have sex?”, “Are you pregnant?”. After a lot of shaking my head, my dad said “Are you depressed?” I paused, finally I gained the courage to say yes. My parents told me how much they love me, how proud they are that I said something to them. They got me a therapist right away.
I’d see my therapist twice a week for an hour. I actually found it really helpful. But no one could have changed my mind about myself more than I could. I had to want it. You need to want to be happy. If you don’t have the drive, you’ll never reach it. I was ‘content’ with being depressed. I didn’t care. Once I realized just how much I was hurting myself, I decided that enough was enough. I wanted to be happy more than anything. It took a long time, I defiantly had a lot of up’s and down’s. But I made it. And I’m here today.
No one can give you the will to be happy again. It’s all you. You have to want it, and badly. You have to try your hardest, push yourself. Prove yourself that you can be happy, you will be happy. There is nothing more rewarding than finally being happy again. I know you can be happy again, I’ve done it.