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Hi everyone, my name is Zippy. That's what my friends call me, or at least they would if I had any friends. I guess that's a small part of my battle with depression, but I'll get around to that later I suppose. Umm... I’m new to these forums, so I'm not exactly sure where to start. I don't want to have to tell my life's story in a discussion board, but I don't know how to begin my tale otherwise, so I'll do my best to keep it short and sweet. I'm 18 years old, and as it happens, I just graduated from high school last week. I'm in the process of looking for a job so I can save up enough money to go to college and buy my first car. Money is extremely tight in my family; my parents are divorced and I live with my mom and little brother. My mom has a secure enough job, and her and my dad are on okay speaking terms for a divorced couple; they frequently see each other whenever my dad decides to stop by for a while and see my brother and I. Nonetheless, I know it's rough for her to simply keep food on the table, not to mention pay the bills. I don't even have a car of my own, and I'm legally considered an adult; I live in a rather rich community, and to other kids my age, that’s considered something short of blasphemy. High school was an extreme factor when it came to my depression, I think. Those 4 years are hell for any child to go through; teens are downright ruthless to each other. Things like what I'm going through, however, are not simply a phase, and I wish adults wouldn't always assume that about us. I’m surprised I even made it out of my senior year alive, nonetheless sane and in one piece, but here I am; I thought graduating would somehow magically take my depression away, because I would no longer have to face the one environment that has caused me so much pain in suffering in the past, but obviously it doesn’t work that way. I'm a normal enough looking girl, but the fact is, on the inside, I'm different. I don't know how else to describe it, but I think that's what brought on the teasing and tormenting. I don't dress like the typical girl my age would; I do not wear mini skirts or high heels or the color pink. I don't label myself and I refrain from doing so for anyone else, but a stranger like yourself might refer to my style as "punk." In my community, anything different from the norm is unacceptable. Therefore, I've been teased mercilessly since junior high. Because of my unique way of dress, many girls were under the assumption that I was a lesbian (even though I am straight and always have been) so, in all of my years as a high schooler, I have never had a boyfriend. I have never even kissed a boy. That alone is embarrassing, not to mention rough; I would love to have a boy my own age care for and love me, since my father is never around much to care. It makes me feel unwanted by the opposite sex. I don't have many friends, either; at the most, I have 5 that I can trust enough to talk to, and one that, I thought, was the closest friend I've ever had. I met her in 8th grade, and she was, in essence, my best friend. I could tell her anything; she was, as I called it, my "sister from another mister." But in my junior year, she suddenly decided that she didn't want to be friends with me anymore and decided she didn’t want to be friends anymore, right in the middle of my depression and in a time when I needed her the most. After that, she started spreading lies to the few friends I had left; they believed me to be the bad person, and ultimately left as well. I was heartbroken, because I couldn't understand how a friend could turn her back on someone who needed help; wasn't that what friends were supposed to be there for? I spent the entire summer locked in my room, mostly crying and wondering what was so wrong with me that no one wanted to be around me. I eventually turned to the things I loved the most to find solace in: books and movies. Because in my own little world, I could be whoever I wanted to be, and I could have as many friends, comrades and lovers as I could dream up. I lived, blissfully unaware, in my head. A pathetic thing, now that I step back and look at it, but what else can I do? I would give anything to have someone care about me. I feel extremely, unbearably lonely all the time and I don't know how to escape it. I want a friend; I want a father; I want a boyfriend. I just want someone to say they care. I do not believe in God, so I don't even have that sort of comfort so many people are able to find. There was a night about a month ago when I was feeling so miserable that I came very close to trying to commit suicide: I went downstairs and stared into the medicine cabinet for a good long while, trying to decide what to do. I gave up and returned to my room crying, running my fingernails uselessly down my arms in an effort to draw blood because I was too scared to do anything else. Technically, I have not ever tried to commit suicide—I have never cut myself, taken an excess of pills or tried to buy a gun—but the idea certainly has been on my mind. That terrifies me more than anything, and it's what led me to believe that I might need help.
I am a very stubborn person, and so I have not gone to see a doctor/psychiatrist to talk, nor have I looked into taking any sort of medicine. I have mentioned being depressed, albeit briefly, to my mom, but I haven't really had the courage to tell her the whole story. I came to the conclusion that I was depressed on my own. I didn't understand why I was always so miserable and constantly crying myself to sleep every night, so I started looking facts up on the Internet. I guess I seemed to fit the category pretty well. On top of being so lonely and upset, I also have trouble getting to sleep at night without taking some sort of nighttime pill. I am a vegetarian by choice, so at first I thought my diet was causing these problems, only to realize that poor nutrition only made up half of the issue—depression, it seemed, constituted the other. I stumbled across this website/forum by accident, actually. I guess I'm glad I did. I won't say I'm happy to read about what other people have written, but it is nice to see that I'm not the only one who feels this way. Help and comments are welcomed with open arms... I really don't have anywhere else to turn. I apologize for this post being so lengthy, but I needed to get a lot of things off my chest. Thank you for listening.
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"Wouldn't it be great to heal the world with only a song?" —Serj Tankian
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