Daffy's Diary (and meme factory)

Okay, This is Going to be Dark...

Hello dear readers.
So, I'm not really sure why, but today I just had the urge to write about a very dark time in my life. I figure it's better to get these things out rather than keep them in, right?
So, since 2013, I've been depressed. Well, I'm not depressed anymore, I should've phrased differently. But for about four years I was living with these horrible, suicidal thoughts. I never tried anything, don't worry, but I always had these really dark thoughts and images I couldn't make go away. At first I figured they were my overly active imagination, but as time went on and I still had them, I began to wonder if these thoughts were that of wish fullfillment. I began to tell my parents what was happening to me, and they suggested I see a counselor. But I didn't want to. I felt that if I share my feelings then they'll consume me, swallowing me in anxiety. So I buried my emotions and lived this way for a while. Eventually I stopped telling my parents what was going on with me. I stopped talking about it to anyone. I wouldn't even let myself cry, because I didn't want people to worry. I remember thinking that if I cried, it meant something had really gotten to me, and I couldn't let my family see how much I was hurt. So for the next year or two I plastered on smiles and pretended to be happy. I thought that if I pretended to be happy, I eventually would be.
I said at the beginning of this that I don't know why I chose to write about my depression. Well, that's actually not true, bow that I think about it. I've never really liked keeping a diary, because I feel like I have to write something in it every day, and I always felt my day to day life was too boring for future me to look back on. But as I mentioned in previous chapters I have kept diaries before. And there was a very particular diary I had in 2013.
Not to different from now, I felt as though I had to write everything that was going on with me in it. I wrote in that thing every minute of the day, making sure not to miss a single detail of my life. But I did leave out a pretty important detail. My depression. I never really talked about it at all. I talked about it a little in the last entry, but I'll get to that.
I found that diary recently, and I flipped through it, reading old entries about TV and fritos and cringing at my handwriting. But while I was reading it, I kept wondering if this was that diary. I noticed how it had about four entries a day, and all of them said things like, "TV is really fun," and "school stinks". But then almost immediately after I wrote something like that I'd follow it up with "I'm bored. BOOOOOOORRREEEDD". And I remembered how I used to blame depression on boredom, and that I got sad when I had nothing to do. I don't really know if that's true, but it's definitely not a bad guess. But when I read that, I realized that I was just writing about randomness and lies about how happy I was to stop the "bad thoughts" from coming in.
As I mentioned, I did mention my depression in that diary, but only once. Here's what 2013 me wrote:
"I have to tell you, I have bad thoughts. (on occasion!) I don't like them. Okay, enough about that. I have a vision for my (clean) room!"
That is word for word what little me wrote on December 15, 2013.
I didn't even want to admit to myself- damn it, even to paper that I was depressed.
One day, in 2014 or 2015, a name popped into my head. Grace. I had no idea how it got there or why that name, but I knew what the name was for. It was the name of suicidal thoughts. My parents kept telling me I should go to a counselor, but I kept refusing saying I could deal with Grace on my own.
A little over a year ago, I finally started going to a counselor, for unrelated matters.
I think it's safe to say Grace is gone now. At least, she's not as bad as she was before. I still get sad sometimes, but not on the degree I would call depression.
It tears me up inside every time I realize that I could've saved myself from four years worth of torture.
But I didn't.
I just kept quiet and let the darkness eat me.
I said that I didn't know why I wrote about Grace. But I do. It's because I have absolutely no idea how a diary works, what you write in a diary, whether to be serious, whether to be funny... That was the last diary I had. And I did a great job with that diary, didn't I? So when I thought about the last two entries I've posted in this diary, and every entry of that other diary, I realized that they weren't that different. And that doesn't sit well with me. I love to laugh, and I try to make others laugh where I can, but I don't know if my diary is the place to do that. Apart from rants and naturally lighthearted stuff, this needs to be mine. It needs to be the place where I can explain things I almost buried inside me. Grace was one of the worst demons of my life. Even when I think of her today it brings back bad thoughts and stupid feelings. But I don't let those get to me anymore. I have ways of dealing with it that don't involve burying my tears. But she isn't the only demon I have. There are other monsters that I'm still battling. And I hope you don't mind if I bring you along for some of those battles, because talking is the best way to win.
I didn't mean to make you all depressed if I did. Another reason I wanted to share this is because I know it's something a lot of people can relate to, but they don't know who to ask for help. I wanted to be there for you all, someone that you could talk to. Hopefully you can trust me to assume that role, knowing that I've been through it, too. Any of you ever need to talk, pm me and I'd be happy to chat.
Stay safe, my friends.
Don't do anything you'd regret.
We love you, and we'd miss you.

❤️Horror❤️