"I'm fine"

"I'm fine."

I said that so many times, I wish it was true. The truth is I am not fine. I am sad. A lot of people think I act like I am sad for attention, but why would I risk my mental health on the off chance people will notice me. I didn't want to write this. The point of my story, is it's mine, but I want to help people in anyway, and the off chance someone reads this I want to help them.

I know how my depression started. I moved from my home town to a dump known for cut out bulls, and the Wilson county fair. I had to restart, and I did. I made a friend. Then, my friend kill himself. I never took death well, it crush me when someone is killed on the news, or my aunt's friend's brother dies, but this was different.  I knew this boy, and he was gone.

I felt so sad, and when I felt sad, I got anxious. That, plus, girls reminding me I am not pretty made me sad. How could people be so cruel? They were terrible. I can't control my looks. Then I started thinking, I'm ugly, I'm fat, I'm never good enough, am the reason he died. He died because I failed to talk to him. I wanted to die. I need to die instead of him.

I found a friend. A friend, and a teacher made me feel better. The idea that an adult, and someone my age cared made me feel better. They were always there to talk, and cry with me. I started to feel happy. I was happy. I still feel sad, and alone, but the brief moments of happiness keep me going. I am going to be fine.