TW: suicide and self harm
I feel the need to talk about hard stuff from my past that I usually kept from myself for too long...
My first long and deep depression took place during the middle and high school.
To resume as quickly as possible, I was bullied in middle school, my so called friend used to hit me and insult me everyday, then all other teens always made fun of me, spit on me, push me on the corridors, judge me, etc. cause I was different and weird. I felt bad in my own skin, I hated myself, I felt disgusting and ugly, I dressed differently from others, and had (and still have) very low esteem of myself. So I wanted to end myself. I tried to commit ***cide. Never told that to anyone cause I feel stupid and ashame of it...
It was on a very cold winter, on the garden's family was a pond (around 3 meters of depth), at that time it was frozen, but the ice wasn't that thick, and so I told myself that I was gonna walk on to it, I guess I needed to feel something, adrenaline perhaps, then I was walking in the ice I arrive at the middle of the pond, i felt weirdly at peace, even though i could feel the ice cracking beneath my feet, it's like I didn't care if I was to fall underwater. And I layed down there, felt the cold, my cracked lips, my body shaking, my frozen hands, I admire the sky, as if it was the last time. After maybe hours I walked back near to the border, and that's when suddenly the ice broke, I was underwater, it goes so quickly it probably last only just seconds but it felt like hours, I let myself drown, closed my eyes, let my lungs slowly filled, I felt the weight of my clothes and boots dragging me down the bottom. Then I thought of my parents, my sisters, my few friends... And I felt selfish cause even though depression told you how no one would care if you died you still can realise it's not true, I don't want to hurt the people I care about. I really wanted to die but I told myself at that moment that I'll try to live again for them. I try to swim to reach the surface, but the weight of my coat and clothes was so heavy, I was suffocating, I was also a bad swimmer, it's then I saw a branch of bamboo that lean close to the surface, idk how I succeeded hang it it but I did, I pulled myself out of the pond thanks to that branch. I believe I could of drown if that branch wasn't there. It took me some minutes to get myself together, sitting on the ground by the edge of the pond that I just fell into. When my parents get home and saw me all wet and frozen to the bones they freaked out, but I told a stupid lie like that I just played too close to the pond and just slip out on the snow and they seemed to believed me...
But to continue living, I needed to feel something else then the pain inside so this is where I started hurting myself, first by punching myself giving myself bruises on my thighs and belly, but it wasn't enough so I started c**ting myself, my wrist and my thights.
When middle school was over, I've been into a far away high school, it was a new beginning for me, also scary cause I knew no one, but I found real good friends, the teens were less judgemental and bit more mature and I felt better. But even though I had friends, nice teachers and all, the depression was still there, hiding in the corner. I still felt bad about myself, I still hated myself, felt ugly, unworthy and wore constantly a mask to try to hide all that. Also internship ended suffocating me, cause I didn't have privacy and time alone that I needed as an introvert to recharge my energy, but at that time I didn't know that I was an introvert. And I started closing myself up, my body and mind was so tired, I slept anywhere on the banches, in class, on the ground, I felt low energy constantly and my friends thought I was upset about them... At that time I couldn't find the words to explain them how I was feeling and I felt so bad not understanding why I felt so bad at that time, and I was ashame of feeling bad. It's when I started c**ting myself again. But more and more I did it I get used to the pain and felt nothing so I c*t deeper and deeper. Till I saw a friend from my class who did it too far and finished at the hospital, that scared the *** out of me, I certainly didn't want to finish at hospital and making my love ones worried. I was so ashamed of it, but I kept continuing, it's an addiction, even though I try not to c*t too deep, I cut less deep but more and more at multiple places on my body. Till a friend noticed. She made me promise to try to stop it. But it was very hard, with the years after high school I did succeed stopped it slowly with time... I was so lost, I didn't know what I wanted to do of my life and saw all my friends leaving away from different schools. I felt lonely. I started *** jobs. I wanted so bad to die and just deseppear. But it's so hard. Life's so hard. But I didn't quit yet, for around 6 years after highschool I try everything to try to make me feel better, I made my own art therapy sort off, to learn about myself, to try to love myself, accept myself and all that. At some point I really thought it worked and got rid of depression, even if I always had tiny periods of depressive times here and there, I felt better, I made art projects, I started photography, I made new friends...
But this year... Depression slowly hits back on me. At first I told myself that it's just a tiny phase but it's been months now. I'm so scared, I don't want to go through depression again and I hope this time it won't last long. I slowly lose all my passions, abandoned lots of projects that I was so excited to do, I lost all my energy, motivation, I'm bored about everything and anything that I do, my emotions are unstable, my heart racing hurts me, my body's constantly shaking, I feel dizzy all the time, I'm exhausted, I barely sleep 3 hours at night...
And so I started seeing a psychiatrist online one month ago, she prescribed me antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs. At the first weeks of my treatment I felt even more dizzy and tired, also felt sedated and overslept all days. On my second appointment with her we talked about it and so she told me to reduce the xanny and take it as I wanted. As for the antidepressants she told me that it could take months before feeling effects. So I'm seeing her next on september.
But however I tried to adapt the Xanax, I don't feel any differences. And worse now I started having p*nic att*cks. I feel like sh*t, I'm not able to do anything of my days, every time I try to stand I'm about to fall. The tiniest tasks seems impossible to do. And I started having ***cidal thoughts again and the want of h***ing myself too. In some way I've always did h*rt me... I don't know if those are considered as self h*rming or just OCD but everytime I'm anxious I unconsciously scratch my skin and my scalp and bite my lips, till it bl**d. My lips are bl**ding at the moment. And I'm afraid of touching a blade and h**ming myself again anyway I guess self h**m is still better than ***cide?
If you've read so far, thank you. It felt good to write it down.
@brokenartlostmind