The Reoccurring Thoughts of a Depressed Teenager

"My Story"

Thursday, July 6, 2017; 3:19am

When I was 14, that's when it all started.
I went through my first heartbreak.
My first love had left me, through no fault of his own.
That's when I started developing  depression.
I started to see a lack of self worth in me.
I started having a hard time seeing the point in anything.
Nothing mattered.
I felt like I didn't matter.
I started self harming.
I did anything I could to take the pain away.
Pills.
Blades.
Alcohol.
All at 14 years old.
When I was 15, my self harming got me into even worse situations.
I met a boy  who was, I'll admit, undeniably cute.
We liked each other for a long time, but neither of us knew it.
When we got together, it was magical.
Everything was perfect.
But at that time, I was still going through a tough time.
My home life seemed to get worse by the minute.
I started self harming again, not thinking of the boy who was sitting on the other side of the screen trying to help me.
Days later, I lost him too.
He left because I was self harming and wasn't taking his advice or listening to him.
We weren't together for long, but as I said before, he was absolutely gorgeous.
I wasn't as heartbroken as I thought I would be, but it still hurt.
I started to realize that my self harming wasn't doing me any good.
But I wasn't about to stop.
That year led to a lot of heartbreak.
That cute boy wasn't the only one who left that year.
A few months later I found a cute football player, and fell hopelessly in love.
Four months later, he left me.
Broke my heart.
Left me for someone prettier.
Of course, he always came back (I spent a whole year of my life running around in circles with him), but it still killed me every time he left.
By the end of that very long, heartbreaking year, I finally gained up the courage to tell him that I couldn't be with him anymore, and left before he could hurt me again.
When I was 17, thats when everything changed.
This was probably the toughest year of my life.
I fell in love with someone i met in the mental institution.
He was absolutely perfect.
Gorgeous.
Charming.
And completely into me.
I was smitten.
He always knew exactly what to say.
I should have known it was a trap.
A month after we got together, he stole my virginity from me.
No, he didn't take my virginity.
He stole it.
He raped me.
But I played it off as it was fine.
I should have known it wasn't.
He continued to abuse me in every way possible for the next 5 months.
He lied.
He cheated.
He snuck around behind my back.
He even did drugs right in front of me to fuck me up even more.
Leaving him was so hard.
Not because I loved him.
By then, there was no feeling left.
I just wanted out.
So i left, and he threw a fit.
A fit so bad, it costed me my reputation.
He sent my nudes to my ex, after asking my other ex if he wanted to see them.
I wanted to die.
I thought this was the end of my life.
I never thought it would get much worse than this.
Because it never did.
After he was arrested for distributing child pornography across state lines, everything seemed to clear up.
I stopped cutting.
I stopped thinking of suicide.
I knew That nothing could get worse than the way it was when I was with him.
I was happier than ever for about three months.
Then he walked in.
Oh how he changed my life forever.
Let me tell you about Cayleb.
Cayleb was something special.
He was one of a kind.
He was one of those people you immediately fall in love with as soon as you see them.
He was perfect.
Cute.
Smart.
An actor.
As I am an arts kid, being in the arts is crucial if you want to  be with me.
I was completely mesmerized for about a month and a half.
I couldn't get him out of my head.
And maybe that's where I went wrong.
Now the only reason why Cayleb gets a name, apart from the rest of the men in this story, is because, as I said, Cayleb was special.
He held my heart.
But he didn't want it.
He never did.
He didn't even ask for it.
I fell too hard, too fast, and he was a little freaked out.
But instead of rejecting me, he used me.
He and I shared a few moments through texts.
I received a few pictures  and even a couple videos, but I never sent them (I learned my lesson)
I was hoping that this was my chance to get him to love me back.
It didn't work.
We messed around for two weeks, before he texted me and told me he didn't want me in his life anymore.
I was shattered.
Destroyed.
Heart broken, yet again.
But this was unlike any heartbreak I'd ever experienced in my life.
I fell apart.
And this time, I couldn't pick up the pieces.
I shuffled through the hallways, not even bothering with my makeup.
Luckily, he ended up getting sick as soon as he left me, so I didn't have to see him for a month.
But when he came back, every stitch I had sewn into my heart snapped and my heart bled all over again.
I cried five times that day.
Had three panic attacks.
I couldn't handle seeing him.
Then, almost by choice, he walked into my third period, and wrecked my life even more.
I tried saying hello, but he ignored me.
I wanted to die even more.
It went on like that for days.
Me trying to get him to speak to me.
Him ignoring me.
It hurt.
No.
It killed me.
I needed him.
But i couldn't have him.
One day, I thought he was coming up to me, so I said hello.
Nothing.
Walked right past me, so close that our shirtsleeves were touching.
Like I was a ghost.
I went to class and bawled.
I couldn't take it.
But once the bell rang, I dried my eyes, and went out to look for him.
But once I found him, i felt nothing.
I looked directly at me, but I didn't feel a damn thing.
I didn't feel anxious.
I didn't feel sad.
I felt nothing when I looked at him.
At that point, I grinned, proud of this newfound feeling, and strutree through the hallway.
The next two months went swiftly anf very well.
No messages from Cayleb.
Not even a like on my posts.
Nothing.
It was the most blissful silence ever.
Then it happened.
I received a text from him, apologizing for how he treated me.
I was dumbstruck.
I felt my heart shatter all over again.
But I refused to let my heart fall for him again.
I forced myself to just be content with his existence.
The next week was rough, but we got through it.
We fought a couple times, but by the time it was over, we had become friends again.
Now I'm almost 18, and I realized that Caylebs attention doesn't matter.
He's 16, and still a baby.
I need to be focusing on bigger and better things.
So I did.
I forgot what it felt like to love Cayleb.
All i could feel was something I'd never felt before.
A friendship  with someone I could otherwise never get along with.
And now im realizing,
Throughout the years, I've always dreamt of being brave.
But I realized, the bravest Thing I've ever done,
Is continued living even when I had no reason to.
Please don't hurt yourself or kill yourself.
I promise it gets better.
And people love you.
Even if you don't love them, it's nice to be loved.
And even if no one does,
Remember this:
I do.
Stay strong my loves ♡