When I was about 17 years old I had been angry with my self for so long that I had actually forgotten how it felt to be happy. I was still in a state of mind where I thought everything I was feeling was completely normal. It’s almost like I didn’t want to realize how far out I actually was at this point. I even started seeing changes in my everyday life.
For example, I started forgetting a lot of basic things. At one point it got so bad that I would actually sit with my remote to turn on the TV, and all of a sudden I couldn’t remember how to use it. It sounds stupid that you could forget something so unbelievably basic, and honestly, it felt completely stupid too. It was the weirdest experience, but I still didn’t realize how bad it was. Now I was struggling with remembering stuff and that only made me even angrier with myself. It was that feeling of “why can’t you just do it and not be so dumb?”, because I didn’t know something wasn’t right.
It wasn’t until something personal happened, I finally realized something wasn’t right. I started to completely lose faith in life, cause my anger had started to become hate. This is where it gets extremely hard to talk about, as this is something I’ve struggled talking about so far. But I decided to tell you my story so I’m going to do that!
Because my hate for myself was so big at this point, I started to prepare myself to leave this earth. I would write letters for my family and friends to tell them everything happening in my mind but also telling them how much I loved them. They had no idea. Cause I didn’t tell anybody about anything.
Everything got so bad that I would have nightmares about ending my life and then wake up in the middle of the night in my bathroom, sitting on the floor. It was so scary to me that I finally opened up and told my mom about what was going on. I didn’t tell her everything but many things. We then decided I would start seeing a psychologist.
It was really hard for me to open up at first, but she ended up really helping me, and she diagnosed me with depression. I also started taking antidepressants, which was a hard choice for me to start taking. I remember having a lot of discussions with my family about whether or not it was a good idea, as you hear so many stories about them. I was actually really scared but it ended up being good for me.
At first, I experienced a lot of side effects, such as dry mouth, gaining weight (which was actually good, I needed it from not eating before), dry skin, and I had some unbelievably weird dreams. My suicidal thoughts got way worse in the beginning of taking these pills, but both my doctor and my psychologist kept an eye on me, and it ended up being way better.
I was now getting help and everything seemed to look more positive. People said they started seeing a difference in me, which made me really happy. The only problem was that I didn’t. I now went back to feeling the extreme fear of being alone and I was so insecure. I didn’t tell anybody about it, cause they thought I was getting better. So how do you tell them that you’re actually feeling the same as you did a year ago?
Back then, I thought I was crazy but now I know that I wasn’t. Later on I found out that the pills were helping with my depression caused from the borderline, which meant my borderline symptoms became way stronger once they were treating me for depression. I just didn’t know I had other problems back then.
Everyone thought I was better, and I tried so hard to believe them. So I stopped taking my pills, which might be one of the worst things I have ever done. But I kept going. I graduated high school, and I went on without saying a word about how awful I felt inside, until one day where everything was just too much.