I haven’t been depressed since I was a little kid, or anything. I’m not an angsty teenager, I’m actually quite preppy and very happy around other people. I used to be genuinely happy, till I got my first boyfriend in ninth grade. He was sweet, and kind, and pretty cute, too.

I started dating him, and he didn’t push me or anything. Understood it was my first relationship, I guess. But as time went by, I guess he got less and less satisfied with me. He was a drinker, and a smoker, and when he was drunk, he did some unforgivable shit. I never gave into his actual wishes (to get me in bed), but I was forced, weekend after weekend, to be some sort of fucked up little doll he could play with when he was bored and horny. One night, he got completely smashed, to the point where he was puking everywhere.

Yet still, all he wanted was to make-out and touch me. I’ll never forget the taste of his puke in my mouth. And as long as I remember, I’ll keep cutting. I’ll keep cutting because everyday when I pass him in school, he gives me this smirk that only I understand. I’ll keep cutting because now he’s dating a new girl, and I’m afraid for her. I’ll keep cutting because I can’t fucking do anything else in this situation. I can’t tell anyone. And I’m so, so sorry for that. I’m so sorry that I don’t think I can date another boy, because I’m afraid when he puts his arm around my shoulder, or goes to kiss me goodbye, all I’ll be able to think about is the monster of a boyfriend I used to have. I’m so fucking sorry.

All my life it seemed like I had it easy but its hard being the last of 4 kids. My half sister and half brother lived in australia and only saw them every second year. Imagine how hard it must of been to always have to say goodbye. My parents always worked, never really had the time to go play outside with me. And my brother who did live all the time at home with me, well we never got along and we always fought. Imagine how hard it must be to never build a snow man with your mom or dad. In 6 grade I was getting older and started to feel depression. I don’t really know why. My parents brought me to psychologist but never worked out. Imagine how hard it must be to feel like dying at the age of 12. Then I got to middle school and i never thought i could fit in but I found my two best friends and we are still friends. Imagine how nice it must be to find two real friends. Friends who understood what depression was. Friends who understood how cutting is a relief. Yeah then grade 8 came. Well imagine how hard it must be that at 13 years old I let go of cutting and started smoking weed and taking speed and e to release the pain instead of cutting. Imagine how hard it must be for parents to find all of this out.  And then you stop all of it. Except the weed. You decide to change schools completely to avoid the old gang. But when you changed schools, you left those two best friends behind, one got into a deep depression and the other got into deep drugs. One is still here, the other in rehab. The one in rehab is the one you’re the closest to. But now she’s gone. And she wont be back for a while. Imagine how guilty I must feel. Both your best friends went into some deep shit while you’re smoking your weed but feeling as depressed as them but not saying anything. And now tonight you restarted cutting because you realized the only people there for you are them but they have their problemes too so we’re really all alone. Realizing you’re addicted to being sad and its the only way you feel alive. Realizing you cant let your guards to in front of your boyfriend because you’ve been hurt before. And I’m not even down, there’s just to must to write. But hey, thankyou for reading my ranting. Felt good.