My story

**DISCLAIMER**
This is kind of long. If you don't want to read it that's fine.



I was a mess and I knew it. I felt every inch of me falling deeper into a pit of disrepair. It seemed I was positioned in a spot that had no outlet, no way out. I was in High School and I was depressed. If you looked at me, talked with me, and were otherwise just around me, you would have noticed nothing. I kept my feelings to myself and let them harbor in the back of my mind. It was a constant battle to play face. I didn't want to walk around school feeling like "the outcast", as if I had issues. I bottled everything that made me suffer into Mountain Dew bottles. I was unhappy, but you would have never guessed.

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I used to regret a lot of things. I did this and that or I didn't do this and that, and it made me upset. I married myself to a lot undeserving thoughts. As much as I tried to constrain them they ran around rampant in my mind. They played tricks on me that caused delusions. "I wasn't good enough", "I was too overweight", and "I would never be like them" were all too common. My High School years were full of self-pity and self-doubt. I didn't believe in who I was nor who I could become.

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I had suicidal written all over my face. If any one of my close confidants had been a little more keen to things they would have suspected something. It permeated through my skin. I was constantly writing about how much I wished I wasn't alive. I honestly felt it would have been better if I wasn't. I remember planning the night I was going to do it. It was perfect. The night it was meant to take place I sat in my room and cried. I cried that I felt it had come down to this. I cried because I felt I had no other way out. I cried because I didn't want to do it.

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I've always wanted to understand other people. I've always felt that if I understood what it is that they are going through I'd would be able to help them. It's this thought process that led me into a depression. I wanted so badly to understand what my friends were going through. I wanted to be able to help them. I wanted to be there for them. I can recall several of them praising me for the help that I had given them. Apparently it had helped them out a lot. I wrote a poem once how helping others left me numb and insecure. I took from them their pain, and it left me empty and hollow. I filled them from my canteen which left me with nothing. I was grateful that they weren't suffering. In my mind it was worth it to see them happy.

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After High School it seemed that things had gotten a lot better. I had divorced the suicidal thoughts and I had become genuinely happy. It seemed that my life was becoming better. During my mission however, it all came crawling back. I remember laying up at night just thinking how much I hated life. I loved what I was doing, where I was, who I was, but for some reason I couldn't shake the thought that I just didn't feel happy, again. It got to the point that I didn't even want to work. When my Mission President suggested I go to a shrink I jumped on it. I didn't want to go home from my mission(I had already gone home twice). The doctor put me on some heavy antideppressants and sent me on my way. I hated how I felt when I was on them. The fake happiness that I felt left me even more vacant than I was before. It was as if someone had sucked out who I truly was and had replaced it with a fake me. The medication was working and I saw a difference but I didn't like who I was becoming. I didn't like what they were doing to me. After a month of taking them I stopped. I was going to deal with the depression in any other way I could besides taking these drugs.

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I have learned to love who I am. I have learned to stop regretting everything that I do. I'm constantly reminding myself that the things that I have done in my past are stories for my future, to help me become a better me. I still have episodes where I feel I have nothing to live for. I'm grateful for a wife who is always there to support me. She lifts me up when I feel I'm at my wits end. She helps me figure out that I do have a life to lead. She let's me know daily that I am worth it. She is my rock. She keeps me from falling off the edge. I'm learning to relax. It's hard being as OCD as I am, but it's something that I'm trying to accomplish. I'm not interested in giving myself an ulcer when I'm 27 or having a heart attack due to stress. I'm letting life take me where it wants to. I'm guiding it with little effort because right now I'm just taking a ride.

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I wrote this to let you know that you are not alone. I've found myself in the deepest pit of despair, twice, and have been able to work my way out of it. You are amazing. You have a purpose in this life, and even if you can't seem to figure out what that is right now, it is there. You have family and friends who love you. You don't need to hide your feelings from them, assuming they have no idea what you are going through. They want to help and support you. You are loved and people care about you. I wrote this to tell everyone that they have someone who is just like them. Our circumstances might be different but we are still the same. I know you through the life I have led. You know me through your experiences, together we can work through this. Don't ever think that giving up is the only solution. It should never be a thought. If it is, please talk with someone. I will always be there for you.

-Jeremy-