I usually don’t speak of this, because I don’t want it to mark my life in a way where I constantly need to explain what is happening with me and where I need to pose myself as a victim or something like that. I try finding courage and solutions to this, but sometimes it gets hard to do it. For now, I am holding this under control and if I might not have the worst kind of depression, this can bring some light to it and maybe you can see the adaptable solution to what you have or don’t have.
I write this to honor the Mental Health Awareness and all who have problems of this kind.
It all started when I was in the high school. If I had to summon my memories from that time, I would describe it as a nightmare and I also blame on the condition I have developed for that. Even now, I think it was the hormones and the surrounding I was in, that made me that way, but also I admit that some part falls on me too for not being smart enough to figure of what is going on. My depression was a result of numerous things that affected me in a way where I’ve lost the control over myself.
I never had a girlfriend. Not even once.
My first attempt of finding a girlfriend failed massively. She said she likes me as a brother and that was the first big love interest I had. I thought, 0K, only one rejected me, move on.
Second time, a different girl ridiculed me with her friends for loving her and telling her what I felt. That was horrible, but I moved on, now ready to be more aggressive with the women, show them I am decisive and, a MAN enough.
Third time, I was being a good, nice, obedient little companion to one girl that wanted me purely as a friend. She liked to think she is the ultimate hot girl in town and that everyone wants to be with her, while the mass of people who loved her was just one guy, Me. Nobody really wanted her for a girlfriend, except me. I wanted to be her boyfriend. While she was FUCKING around, having threesomes, people used her and abused her, but that was what she meant by being the most popular girl.
This thing made me furious when I found out that she slept with my cousin. He bragged about it in-front of the other guys and he knew I loved her. I knew he did that deliberately to spite me. I had no strength to look at her. She disguised me. When my cousin left her, she came back to me and cried on my shoulder. I wasn’t interested to be the guy who needs to fix her, every time someone else breaks her. No, no more. So we had a fight and I said to her “They fuck you, but I love you! Find another man to torture!” and I left. She didn’t figured what was I telling her and she didn’t snapped out of the fictional world she was living in, she actually blamed me for ruining her life. She still hates me intensively.
Since then, I seriously emotionally sank to the bottom and stopped looking for love. I learned how evil women can be. Since I couldn’t be a MAN they all wanted me to be, I removed myself from that world. I am going my own way.
Now, add to this story the constant bullying, the laughing and ridiculing the little guy in the corner and add hormones to spice it up, and there you go, a perfect school shooting mentality. The only difference to it, I didn’t had the courage to rise up, and so I kept everything in me, let it breath inside me, boil and live. I was a coward, but now addicted to my own pain and suffering. This pulls you to the bottom very fast and soon, I started developing physical symptoms. I had strong cramps in my stomach, cold sweat whenever I had to get outside the house, pain in my head, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea I couldn’t get rid off. More to that, I was hyperventilating, overthinking, becoming antisocial, insomniac and a depressive creature that was fond of cold. Whatever happened and wherever I was, I couldn’t cool enough.
I was issued with strong antidepressant pills I had to take. A strong concentration of serotonin (happy hormone). I spent month indoors, not able to walk from the depression and anxiety attacks. I was vomiting all of the time, had a stomach pain that made me cry, insomnia was only getting worse. The doctor who looked at me said I have some specific condition. He explained that humans are like wolfs. We can not survive without other people. And I was behaving like a lone wolf without a pack. I had to find a way to socialize and reenter the society, but as a different person. I got a fresh start and I was 16 of age when all of that happened.
The MAN I was before in no more. And I am not making old mistakes again. I moved on.
Hey, this is my history. I can’t change it and if I could, I wouldn’t. I learned a lot from it. Never trust people or bond with them to the point they can hurt you. This is what I have become and I am not ashamed for it. I only avoid telling it to everyone, but here we are. Knowing that we may never meet face to face in this lifetime, I got the courage to speak up, vent, share my experience and probably give you some view on the depression.
So, to recap all of my mistakes. I should’ve manned up and said what was bothering me. I should’ve asked for help earlier and see some other people. I should’ve changed the circle of people I was surrounded with. I should’ve picked different types of girls and maybe learn a thing or two from the people who wanted to help me. I should’ve become more resilient to insults and be more manly instead to keep everything in me. Simple truth is that, people respect power. The problem was in me, not in them. I just acted differently from the others and didn’t understood the society. I am a dreamer with an artistic soul, but I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. That only bothers me more. It crumbles my strength. I don’t want your tears and hugs or pity. This is what makes me stronger. I hope you understand my logic here.
If you have something bothering you, you must speak up if you want help and get better. Yes, you may be strong and valiant, but speak even then, so people can find some way to cope with what bothers them. Help if you can, and if you can’t, be the one who would listen the story. That way, people can vent and unburden some weight from their shoulders. Sometimes, that helps more than the pills.
So, this is my story. This is me venting out. Thank you very much for your view.