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Hello, I am a 22-year-old university student. First of all, I would like to say that this is a letter in which I introduce myself but there are only facts and those facts are just about depression I have been experiencing since the age of 15. I just need to pour out my heart. So start by knowing this, because I cannot give anyone hope that everything will be fine. For those who will ask, I do not know why I am writing this letter; I just wrote. I hoped it would make me feel better. My depression did not suddenly get worse; it is not like a sudden heart attack; it is an illness that accumulates and accumulates strength. It is a curse that affects you piece by piece, and each time it reaches a peak, it does its best to make you kill yourself. Because of the desire to do nothing, Something that's throbbing inside your skull and trying to force its way out, something that makes your chest suddenly tighten, something that makes you put a smile on your face for your family and strain your muscles to keep that smile until you walk away from them, something that makes you know that the inside of your head is full even if you don't think about anything, used to be The fading of everything you enjoy, the thing that becomes stronger when you say yourself it is gone with antidepressants, the state of mind where you can't describe it when someone asks you what depression feels like. These experiences accumulated slowly and became stronger when I thought they were gone. I think my depression started at the age of 15-16 because I had a hatred towards people that I had accumulated since then. If you ask why people make fun of everything about me—my appearance, my personality, the way I walk, the way I talk—none of them are right. I made all the changes they made so that people would love me and accept me. I was a polite person, and people attributed this to the fact that I acted like a girl. I became rude. I had a birthmark on my face; people said it looked like shit. I had surgery. My voice was thin. They said I was like a girl again. I avoided shouting in the crowd; I didn't talk; I didn't express my opinions. I had more hair on my arms than other people; they called me a monkey. I never wore anything with short sleeves again, not even in the summer. I did everything until middle school so that people could see me as them, but there was a growing hatred inside me. This hatred toward everyone consumed me. When I was 15 and started my first year of high school, I felt tired and decided that I didn't even want to talk to people anymore, and I didn't become close friends with anyone. Depression deceived me, and I realized that loneliness is very beautiful and that when you are by yourself, you don't have to pretend. Depression tricked me and took me by the hand to that place where loneliness is so beautiful. When you are by yourself, you don't have to pretend; no one judges you. At first, everything was great. After school, I spent my time at home playing games, and I thought I was happier without people around me. At that time, I slowly moved away from everyone and thought that loneliness was a very beautiful thing. My depression got worse when I was 18–19. I had a really bad period for a year. I lost interest in some of the things I loved, both because of my family and myself. I had my university exam, and I stopped caring about the things I was going through. The university exam was over, and I, who said that I didn't need anyone that summer and that I didn't even want a lover, realized that I needed someone and said that my university life would be different, that I had left everything behind, and that I would try to talk to people again and make good memories with them, but when I tried to leave that isolated room, I found that the key was missing. I realized I didn't have it in my hand and couldn't open the door. Depression had deceived me, and now it wouldn't let me go out. I couldn't have relationships with people; I realized there were no activities I enjoyed; I was 19 years old, but I felt like I was 70; I didn't enjoy the things young people did with the feeling of being young; I couldn't take care of myself; after a while, I couldn't do anything. I realized that I didn't care about anything. I was the living dead; I was stupid; I didn't feel anything; I didn't care what was going on around me; I couldn't laugh at the things people were laughing at. When I was 21, I went to the doctor and started taking medication, and I still do. I've already given up hope that things will get better; I'm just waiting for my time to come. A lot of times I know that I act cold towards people, as if I don't want to talk to them or communicate with them but it is not true.Just now that this has nothing to do with you if we meet somewhere; I'm just tired and want to give up.
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I want to start of by saying hello and thank you. Thank you for explaining depression in a way that I could never find the right words to do so. You didand very well and accurate. Depression is a very tricky place. A lot of people think that it is an easy cure. I know you have given up hope, but try to hold on to a little bit of it. I hope that you run into someone today that makes you smile today.
ReplyHey there. I just wanted to check in and say hi and see how your day has been going. I had a bout of the good ol depression. I finally forced to get my shit together, shower, get dressed (other than pjs or sweats) brushed my hair (instead of a messy bun) put on a little makeup (very rare, I probably looked like an animal that belonged at the local zoo.) Then went to my allergy doctor for my shot. (lol I know big step.) Anyway. I just wanted to see how you were. sorry for the ramble.
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