Hey, SW.

I'm a 17-year old girl, also fairly new to Reddit. And I've been dealing with depression for a long time.

Next year, I'll be a senior, and to tell you the truth, after the second semester, I never thought I'd get to do that. I had made up my mind to kill myself. I went the whole nine-yards. I tidied up my room, put all my things away, took everything off the walls, folded my clothes (like my mum always begged me to do) and wrote the note--ehh. I actually wrote a couple of notes, and I left them in a box and put it with the rest of my things. I had planned to hide in my closet during the attempt, because I just didn't want them to see me. If I had the choice, I didn't want anyone to find me. But, that's incredibly hard to pull off. It was all set up to go, on my last day of school, after the exams were done. The thing that really drove me to do it was the sheer agony over the idea that I would have to do all of this again next year. Senior year seemed like some ominous destiny I wanted no part in.

The thing that scared me the most was having to deal with all the people. It was always so loud, all the time, and everyone was smiling. I really disliked myself because I couldn't do that. People really just irritated me. Large crowds make me extremely uncomfortable, and when I say large, I mean about five people. That's large for me. It's especially stressful when they're all talking at the same time. Even with big family events, I made it rule to stay away from people, talk to as few people as possible and stay out of sight.

I've always been quiet, self-composed and a bit of a odd-ball, but I didn't see anything wrong with it. But I just never wanted to do anything. For a while, I thought if I just pretended to be like all the "happy people", than it would really happen for me. Like a placebo, maybe. So, I tried to make friends, be around people, and talk. But, damned be me, It didn't work. People didn't like me. I tried to do everything I thought people wanted. Be polite, give compliments, smile more, act interested, look pretty, anything I could think of that people would want in a "friend." But, no. I blamed myself for it and settled on the notion that I was just broken or something.

The night I had my first suicidal thought, I cried. And I didn't stop. All I could think about was the fact that I HAD to do it. I had no other choice. I knew I needed help, but I also knew I could not tell my parents. And in my head, if I can't tell them, I can't get help, and if I can't get help, I'll have to repeat this all over again next year. I really really didn't want that, so killing myself was the only thing I could do. Or so I thought.

Two days before the execution, I broke down. To me, this was my last day to get help from any other means than telling my parents. I'd hope that maybe a teacher would notice. I don't know. Just notice me. My grades had dropped, I avoided eye-contact with almost everyone, and I just completely stopped doing work in the class and gave up on even taking the finals. But, they didn't notice. I mean, I just wanted someone to notice, so that they could tell my parents. I just could not be the one to do it. However, despite everything, teachers don't notice students. A teachers knowledge of a student (a living, breathing thing, mind you) only goes as far as the work he/she turns in. That's all they really notice. So, after that happened and the day was almost over. I just broke down. After ALL THAT not even the teachers noticed me. It just felt like the world ended, because they were the only hope I had left of living and I didn't want to die. I really didn't, yet at the same time, it was the only way.

But, at the last minute, when I was at my desk sulking to myself, a teacher asked me what was wrong, told me I looked like a complete mess and wrote me a pass to the clinic. At first, I didn't know if I should go or not, because I have no idea what I'd say and I know that I can never speak when confronted, my throat just dries up and it's impossible to get the words out. But, after a bit, I decided to go and I'm happy that I did. When I got there, though, oh, the water works started. I just cried and cried and cried. And I actually told someone.

I hadn't told a soul that I was depressed, or considering suicide. I mean, who was I supposed to tell? My friends? Not many of those. Barely any, to be honest. But telling someone felt great. After I told the counselor, the feeling that I had to kill myself went a way a little. And then I talked to the school's social worker and it was sort of nice. I didn't get to talk to her that much, however, but whatever. She told my parents for me and at first, I felt really ashamed. I thought that they might think that I was crazy or something and place me into a mental institute. I mean, I figured that was just an irrational fear of mine, but still. But, after talking a bit with them, I felt okay with it and I gave up on my suicide attempts.

It was summer now, so I didn't have to deal with school or people anymore. I can just stay at home and lay in bed, doing what I always do. Which is basically day-dreaming and sleeping. So, the feeling of anxiety over people just naturally went away by themselves. But, I can't shake that the problem has gone away. I'll have to deal with people for the rest of my life. And more importantly, next year.

As of late, I've accepted that I need to be happy with myself. I've always had terribly low self-esteem, so I'm working out, doing yoga, and just making myself feel better about myself... by taking care of myself. Heh. I've made quite a few new revelations for this first month of Summer.

One: As long as I'm sure in everything I do, I won't have anything to feel guilty about afterwards. (Feeling guilty and worthless was a major problem for me)

Two: No one deserves to be hated. People are people and as such, we have flaws. Our flaws are different, but they are flaws nonetheless. I can't hate someone for anything that they do, but I can dislike them. But above all else, I must respect their right to do such things and have such flaws, because I'm just like them.

Three: Everyone can suck it. I'll take my imperfections and roll with it. I'll love myself even if the whole world hates me.

This is only the beginning, and I haven't actually had the chance to be out in public, and I'm using this summer to reinvent myself and build up that long sought after confidence that I see everyone sporting nowadays. I'm changing schools for my senior year, picking classes that I want to take, and trying to start fresh. So, I just wanted to make this post so that I can have like-minded people to talk to to support me in my endeavors should I ever need so that I don't become so depressed again to the point where I'd consider taking my own life.

I know I might need some professional help, my social anxiety is really bad, and it tends to just feed the depression, so I might need help with that. I'm working on it! Teen depression is real, and it might seem silly, but either way, I can't say anything about that, you're entitled to your beliefs.

Thanks, it feels nice to vent for the first time to someone. (Even if it is strangers on the internet.)