I have depression and I’m gonna write about it 

I look and act like pretty much anyone.

I function normally and i can socialise with people and I’m not shy. 

but I have depression.

I suffer with it. and i truly mean I suffer.

its always there no matter what good comes into my life . sure, it can get better but it makes itself known when the lights and sun go down and and when the lights and sun come up and everywhere in between.

depression doesn’t just go away when someone comes into your life . and it doesn’t suddenly come back when you have a break up or when your dog dies. it’s an illness. an actual mental illness. and you just suffer. like I suffer.

and it sucks because it’s really hard for me to talk to people about it and to explain what it’s really like for me and how it feels to be inside my head. normally I just joke about it and they also begin to joke about it and it never becomes serious.

I need to work on that.

what I really wanna tell them is that I hurt. I hurt when I am alone and i hurt when I’m in bed and i hurt when I am having a good time because I know it won’t last when my back hits the mattress. I don’t write anymore and i fucking miss it but I can’t bring myself to bring stories to life. I realized I’m a social eater. but it’s just because I don’t want them to notice that I’ve been getting skinnier and skinnier and more tired and more fragile. my wounds take forever to heal and I’m always tired. I am always fuckin tired. my room is never clean and i hate it but I can’t bring myself to do anything about it. and my hair is falling out. from stress or from not eating i don’t know maybe both but I hate it. I laugh and i joke and i go out but it’s just to try to fill what I know is wrong with me in my brain. 

this is all I have at the moment. 

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eating pt. 2: the worry.

i haven’t had a meal in a while. I am trying very hard not to worry but it is getting worse. I am skinnier now than I ever have been. i am weak, and tired and my wounds take a while to heal. I am never hungry so I never eat, only when I get dizzy or when I am out with friends. I eat with them so they can stop worrying so much but I think I should stop because it’s getting bad. I can feel my hip bones now which is an entirely new thing for me given my state a couple months ago. it has to be the stress but I don’t know how to fix it. but thinking of food now just sort of makes me sick and that worries me because I can’t have then worry about me like last time.

thanks for the pepperoni and sausage pizza, dad, but u know I’ve been a vegetarian for over a year.

ok but

this is actually an issue.

I have been living with my dad for almost 3 years  and last year I made the decision to become a vegetarian. I was a vegetarian before, when I was a kid, but I had to stop because my dad “doesn’t trust people who don’t eat meat” and it made me feel sad. but I’m not a kid anymore and i can make life altering decisions on my own and he has no choice but to respect them.
although I believe this to be true, he still finds little ways to get back at me for this. for example, getting food for me that I do not eat like pepperoni and sausage pizza or burgers from big star and it literally makes me feel terrible. it makes me feel unimportant to him. he used to see me as his world, his savior  (and i mean he literally saw me as someone who saved his life bc I’m the reason he didn’t kill himself but that’s a story for another time) but I guess he just came to terms with the fact that I’m really just an average teen that makes decisions he doesn’t like.
I think he’s just getting sick of me.
he isn’t caring so much anymore now that I’m older.
my shoulder is acting up again and he didn’t say anything when I told him.
my glasses broke and it didn’t matter.
I mentioned my eating habits and it didn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter anymore but ya know what I’m not gonna let it get to me.

eating pt. 1: the very tired girl.

i haven’t been eating lately. i am worried. my eating habits have been so bad that I couldn’t remember if I had eaten that day or when the last time I had eaten a meal even was. i hadn’t really noticed it before but I am very tired again to the point of where I could sleep, go to school, and then come back home to go back to sleep. my friends have yet to notice and I’m glad; let’s keep it that way. I don’t know if I’m getting bad again and that terrifies me because I don’t want to go through the explaining and I don’t want them to worry.

 

don’t worry. you will be okay. you have gone through this before, and you are strong.