I used to own a blog about 2 years ago. I don't mean like a normal Tumblr blog where I reblog pictures of cats and Harry Potter stuff. I mean the kind where I talked about my deepest thoughts. I shared the blog link to my Facebook, and didn't think anybody really cared or kept an eye on it. So eventually, when I was developing severe depression, I started sharing those thoughts on my blog. I would talk about how I was self-harming, how I was starving myself (note: I didn't develop anorexia or bulimia) and how I wanted to die. Some days I went really in detail.
One day, I was angry at one of my sisters for something, and wrote how I self-harmed myself for it. That's when my cousin told my parents. Only I'm not exactly sure about what happened. My mother told me my aunt called (my cousin's mom) and said my aunt found it, but my cousin also wrote me a Facebook message for me to stay strong. To this day I still never found out what really happened.
Anyways, my parents found out about my blog. Only they didn't really seem angry at me being depressed. They were basically angry at me for talking crap about my sister. My mom pulled me into my room and explained how I couldn't write on a blog because I can't write how I feel about my family (Or something like that, remember this was over two years ago) and she also mentioned that if I starved myself it will only screw up my metabolism and I will get a big tummy like the kids in Africa. (????)
So I stopped and kept everything in, and of course it only got worse. Eventually I took 50 IBProfin and tried to kill myself, wouldv'e taken more if they hadn't stopped me. I don't want to go into too much detail, but they took me to the hospital where I stayed there for two days until I could go in-patient hospital for mental illness nearby.
That was my Sophomore year of High School. Now I'm a Senior, and less than two weeks from graduation. I can't say life itself got any easier, but my mental health is a lot healthier. When I was severely depressed, I really didn't have a reason to be. I guess that's the reason why my parents thought I did it for attention. That does not mean that I was, it means I had a chemical imbalance, and because of it, it made me want to die.
This year has been really hard. I don't want to talk about what happened just yet, but maybe I will in the future. (If so, the title will probably be titled something mentioning August, in case you're curious) But unlike Sophomore year, I am more healthy. I'm trying to get help with the thing that happened, but it's frustrating because the police won't do much. I've been expecting a call back from them, but they're a week late. And I'm trying to get back into therapy, but I've always felt nervous driving and therefore don't have a driver's license. I have better coping skills now, which is a plus.
A couple weeks ago when I was talking to Tisha* about the whole August thing she was saying how if this happened a couple years ago, I probably wouldn't have told anyone and kept it all bottled up. And I have to say I agree with her.
I've been thinking about creating this blog for a long time, just to get some of my thoughts out once in a while.
Whelp, that's all I got for now.
I'll try to make a new post everyday, but no promises.
*Tisha is a chick that comes from the Juvenile Court System. I swear I've never been in trouble with them, but they come to our school and does Girls Group, which is how I know her since... Freshmen or Sophomore year? I'm not sure. She's the person I've asked for help with the whole August thing, and it's just a roller-coaster since.
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