I was depressed before I could pronounce hospital. I used to say "Hopsital," until I was 6. At that point I had moved schools, and of course my life changed with that. I never liked school, not because I was dumb, because it bored me. I always hated the way I looked, and from as far as i can remember I used to wake up every morning and look in the mirror, hoping my face was different. I pictured a skinny girl with plump lips, blonde hair and a button nose. No matter how long i waited for my plastic surgery miracle to happen I never stopped hoping. That was my worst flaw.
Age 7 I had only gotten worse, it was around here the bullying started. I was an extrovert, but nervous all the time. I always second guessed what people were thinking, forced myself to suppress that emotion i felt, imagining their insults until a later date. I never cried. I sat and wondered what it was about me, but I was able to brush it off. It was only one girl, and she didn't do much, I just heard her say my name behind my back.
Age 8. She recruited more backstabbers, but we were never friends to begin with. I wasn't able to brush it off as easily but I would never cry about three mean girls. She started talking more freely, but it was fine, it didn't happen a lot. I was focused on stupid in class tests, and making my mam happy.
Age 9 I created a system. Get emotional,. bottle it, never talk about it, repeat. She got more people, my friends. Her jolly old band of manipulators clawing at the back of my heels as i made futile attempts of sociopathology. I just said nothing. I just nodded and left, sat alone at lunch, stayed quiet.
Age 10. No friends. Nothing. She pushed, she cursed, she hurt. And I say nothing. I already hated myself, my looks my personality, it wasn't even her fault. It was mine. I stayed up at night, and for the first time, I cried. I cried and I asked God why he did that to me. Why he does this to me. Mam found my cuts
Two years later i planned my second suicide attempt.
I have been depressed before I could pronounce hospital. I have been anxious before I had my holy communion. I have hated myself before I knew hate was possible. I have been on anti-depressants for 1 year.
People talk about depression a lot. They explain what it is, how it happens, how to deal with it. But no one tells 6 year olds why they wish they were a new person. No one tells 8 year olds why they can only see the worst of them. No one tells a 10 year old why all their dreams kill them. No one told me why I beg for a God I don't believe in to kill me so I don't have to make my mother feel like she failed me.
I never asked my mam to check for monsters under my bed, and no matter how cliché, I never talked about the demons in my head.
I have lived with mental illness my whole life, and I have been the only person on my side for all of it.
