Every hour and fourty-five minutes, another young person commits suicide. And for every suicide, there are 50 to 100 attempts at suicide. Suicide is the third leading cause of death

for 15 to 24 year olds.

Let's put a stop to this.

It's an injustice that a young person should ever feel like they are worthless, or that their life isn't worth living. I should know; I've been there, done that, and come out the other end of it. This is my diary from 2008 - 2009, when I was in the depths of my depression. I hope that by making this memoir public, I can make one troubled young person realise that they've got a life fighting for.

Never

feel like suicide is the only way out.
You have options.


7th June 2008

So it's my birthday in exactly two months!
Sweet Sixteen!
I never thought I'd actually have a proper sixteenth.
You know.
Never been kissed.

Tash was having this, "party" thing at Q1, except it's not really hers so to speak, it's her sister's boyfriend's or something.
And hence, I didn't want to go to a strange apartment with a bunch of strange people.

Perhaps it's my characteristic indifference that makes me so awkward around the human race.
I dunno. Whatever it is, it inhibits my capability to make friends.


14th September 2008

Okay, so it's been quite a while since I last wrote.
I suppose I don't write much because my life is so uneventful. I just don't see the point in recording useless information.

I think I may actually be clinically depressed. I just feel like crying all the time, and for no apparent reason. I feel ugly, unloved, and unvalued.
I feel like I have no real

friends, like I'm on the outside, looking in.
It feels like I'm spiralling downwards, and I'm afraid I won't be able to get back up again.
I just can't see my life getting any better.

This, of course, has a lot to do with the social rejection I feel each and every day. It's like I'm the back-up friend, and when I'm not needed I'm discarded like a tasteless piece of gum.
I've felt this way my entire life - like I'm not good enough. I feel like an alien.

If I could just leave school and retreat to my mind and my thoughts, I'd be inexplicably happy.

I haven't told Mum how I feel. I've never liked the idea of opening up, not even to my Mother. It's too painful, and I hate people to see my cry.
Right now, I'm not considering suicide, but earlier, I honestly felt like everyone would be better off without me.

I really need to go get some help.
But I won't.

When I look in the mirror, I see a worthless object, incapable of receiving human love or affection.

I wish I had purpose.
Talent.
Meaning.


18th September 2008

Am I a masochist because I can't get over a guy that treats me like crap, like I'm nothing? Endless criticisms, him trying to make me something I'm not.
And yet I can't get him out of my mind.
I just wish I could.
I'm glad it's the holidays. That gives me two weeks to sever all contact with Will, and hopefully clear my mind, get my head straight.


23rd September 2008

Yesterday, Sarah and I went on this massive bike ride. It started off as just going to Bundall, but we ended up going all the way to the beach! It was great. We went up the Q1 and had ice-cream on the beach. Then we had chocolate-dipped strawberries and watched Juno.
best day ever.


27th September 2008

Why is it that one person's opinion can dictate how an entire group of people feel? Are they really all merely lemmings?

In my case, it's two people: Abby Whitcomb and Eloise Burton, Queen Bitches. Just because they don't like us, their followers (who I once thought of as friends) are ashamed to be seen with us. It's bull.

How are we supposed to remain resilient to the opinions of others? How come I can't just... Not care what they think of me? Instead it consumes me.

I have a year and a quarter left of high-school; how am I supposed to cope? Who knows, I might not even be

on their childish, "Black List".
But I know for certain that Tash is. And because I let myself be seen with Tash, I might automatically be on it, too. And it's not like I let their mocking stares and snide remarks fool me; I am hated.
It is, after all, an incurable hate, so perhaps I should focus on more trivial matters, such as what I should get on my Senior Jersey?
God, I don't know why I let it bother me.

I never really expected I'd keep this journal going, but it really does help to get these feelings out.
I know it's just teenage angst, but I'd prefer not to bottle it up.
That leads to mental break-downs.

God! I wanted this to be a memory, not a hormonal hurricane. I just can't help it.

APOLOGIES.

Why is it that during term, when I'm surrounded by people, I feel lonely, but when I'm on holidays and alone, I couldn't be happier?
Odd.


4th October 2008

Horrors of horrors, I have school tomorrow. My two weeks of complete social severance are over.

And to make things worse, Milo's lost down the drain and can't get out. I can't sleep without my chocolate monster! I've been checking every half hour for him, but there's just no sign. I've put food and a bed down there for him, so fingers crossed he'll be back by morning.
I'm just so worried! I couldn't cope without him.
Please God, don't take Milo away from me, please.
Milo, come back!


6th October 2008

Milo's back!
After being in the drain 35 hours, Mum was finally able to coax him out and grab him. She didn't get in the drain of course; she leaned in and pulled him out by the neck like their mothers do. Thank God.

But ugh, Mrs Chancell was bitching today that I don't put enough effort into Math B, and that I should go into Math A.
Well, if she didn't have such tiny teeth that were more interesting than whatever nonsense she's shoving down our throats then MAYBE I'd be able to concentrate in class.

I'm just so sick of teachers sticking their noses in my business! They're always like, "Oh Trixie, you've had so many days off school, is everything all right at home?"
How am I supposed to tell them that I don't go to school because I can't be bothered? I bet they sit in their staff rooms wildly contemplating the various problems I could have.
Ha.


15th October 2008

I thought I'd write tonight, a Wednesday, because I can't seem to shut my brain off, and reading doesn't help.

We're all sort of in limbo at the moment, trying to decide whether or not to go back to New Zealand. Personally, I'm undecided.
I would

like to finish high-school here, and everything's so... Y'know, in New Zealand. And way more expensive.

As much as I hate to say it, Australia has become home to me. I'm torn between two countries and I don't know which to choose. I just know that if I go back now, I'll never see any of my friends again. I'm not going to glamourise it, it's the truth.
Sigh, the fret of indecision.


17th October 2008

Today I finally realised that I no longer have a crush on Will; if anything, I hate him.
He's always nagging and criticising and bitching! So damned annoying. And to top it all off, he was whinging about Sarah (best friend) right in front of me!

Ugh, I just wanted to rip his stupid head off.
Thank God him and the rest of his loser friends migrated at lunch. Even though our sub-group is still plagued by Sophie Harvey and Shannon DiCanto, it is marginally better without Abby, Eloise, Gibson and ESPECIALLY Will.

I can't believe I have had a crush on him.
What an embarrassment!

Well I suppose that's a sufficient rant for this evening.


Early in the morning of the 8th of November

Well.
It's near to a month since I last wrote, and I can truthfully say that A LOT has happened.

First of all, Rob came over to stay for two weeks. It was so nice having him here again. It's like he's the one thing that puts this family in balance, and without him terror and chaos ensues.
But I do

have to be happy for him. He's met a sweet girl whom he loves and adores. if that takes him to L.A, then so be it.

But anyways, moving on.
I got invited to apply for English Extension!

It has been my ultimate goal since grade 8, and so I desperately hope I get in. It's a class of only nine students, but I know I have a good chance of getting in.
At least I hope so.


What is it? The 22nd?

I haven't been able to write in a while because I've been so upset.

I don't think many people realise how unbearably painful it is to have your dreams shattered in an instant.
With a mere sentence, no less:
"Unsuccessful application for English Extension."

A letter came on Wednesday during home-room - sealed and everything. A simple envelope that would make my world come crumbling down around me.

I guess it seems pretty pathetic to want to get into a course so desperately, but I suppose I've had my sights set on it for three years.

But what really gets me is that fact that Paige of all people got into it. So not only do have to deal with the fact that I'm not smart enough to get into my dream course, but I'm expected to accepted that Paige IS?!
Slack-Off Paige that never even turns up to school?

And get this.
11:20am on Wednesday:
I'm still reeling from the fact that my dream has been stolen, whilst trying to ready myself for the upcoming English exam (Intertextuality: The Crucible and Guilty by Suspicion).
Paige saunters in, late as usual, and UNPREPARED.
But then... The unbelievable.
Mrs Tulley GAVE HER THE QUOTES. The same quotes I worked my ass off all week researching and integrating into my argument.
So basically, I did terrible on my exam because I couldn't stop thinking about how on EARTH that little miss Idle got into Extension.

But I have to admit that I've failed.
Failed in my attempt to get over Will.
I figured that if I repeatedly told myself and others that I hated him, I'd start to believe it.
And I thought it was working until my sister started a conversation with him on MSN.
After the initial explanations of her mischief, the conversation just continued.
I fell instantly back in love with him.

But I just don't get it.
How can I be so madly in love with someone when all he does is criticise and ignore?
That MSN conversation was probably the first time we'd talked in months, and it lasted for a good two hours.

Does he think about me, the way that I think about him? Does he look at me, the way that I look at him?
I'm so sick of his façade.
I just want to tell him the truth.

But I can't.


21st January 2009

My first entry of the year, and I must warn, it's a morose one.

I've lost all motivation to do anything.
Not even writing can get me out of his slump. I'm always in a bad mood, and all I want to do is sleep.
I mean, the only reason I'm even writing this

is because the internet's down.

I've been feeling this way since we got back from New Zealand eleven days ago.
I usually get depressed when we come back, but never for this long.
This time I can't shake it.

And I guess I also get depressed about the cruel hands of time. It goes so fast it makes me dizzy.
It feels like just yesterday that I was parading around in a fairy outfit and a stamp on my nose on my sixth birthday.
But when I look back on that time, it feels as though it never happened - like a detached reality.

I'm sick of just drifting through life.
I was something exciting to happen.
Something meaningful.
I don't want to wake up one day, eighty years old, and wonder where my life went.


1st February 2009

Well.
It's official.
My childhood is gone with my youth soon to follow.
It's my final year of high-school.

I can't believe it's gone so fast. I wish I could do it all over again... No, I wish I could do my whole life

over again.
Time is such a fleeting thing.There are times when you think you've finally grasped it, but when you look down there's nothing in your hand but air.

On the brighter side, I've finally figured out what's wrong with me.
I was reading through Cleo magazine earlier, and stumbled across an article entitled, "Is being shy an illness?"
It talks about social anxiety, a disorder I couldn't help but relate to.
It develops around the ages of 12 and 27, and affects a person's ability to function around other people.
It says, "People with social anxiety catastrophise: they believe that other people think very negatively of them. In some ways they believe they're worthless, or not a good person."
That describes me to a T.
It also says that social anxiety sufferers will, "socialise selectively (with one group of friends) or avoid mingling altogether."
Frighteningly accurate.
Oh, and just my luck: it's not curable.
Great. Just great.


15th February 2009

Well.
Our sub-group has detached completely now. We don't really (well I don't) associate with those band of lemmings any more.
Crippling to our social stature, but the Queen Bitches were slaughtering that anyway.

A bit sad that I don't even get to stare at the back of Will's head any more, but maybe that'll help me get over him faster (even though eight weeks of total absence did nothing but fuel my desire).
Why do I like him so much!? He's not even that good-looking, and I don't remember the last time we had a conversation.

Ho Hum Tickle My Tum.


24th February 2009

I can't seem to find a footing in life.
It's like whenever I think I've come to grips on who I am and what the Hell it is I'm meant to be doing, I slip and fall back down lower than I started.
It's depressing and it makes me depressed.

Another thing that's depressive is this insistent infatuation with Will.
I accidentally made eye contact with him yesterday, and as soon as I did, this intense pang of I-don't-know-what surged through me like a hurricane.
It actually left me dizzy for a couple of seconds.

And ANOTHER thing that adds to this constant downward spiral of misery is that fact that I'm so God-damned ordinary.
No matter where I go, I am always just The Invisible, the Unnoticeable.
Sure, it's nice sometimes, but for once, just once, I'd like to be appreciated.

"Selling my soul would be a lot easier if I could just find it."

25th February 2009

I'm having trouble figuring out what life is all about.
What is its purpose?
We're born, we live, we die.
We experience the best part of our life when we're too naïve to cherish is, and what is really worth living for once your youth is gone?
If there IS a God, he has a pretty messed up sense of humour.


26th February 2009

I'm too depressed to tidy my room.
There's crap everywhere.
I can't find anything... It's like a dungeon in here.
I don't remember the last time I opened my blinds.
The ants have found their way in here, and are feasting on something hidden in the depths. They bite me a lot, but I can't even be bothered spraying them.

I was trying to trace where my depression stemmed from, and I ended up in my childhood. I always believed I had the best imaginable childhood, but when I really think about it, I was a pretty troubled kid.
I never seemed to have any friends, and spent most of my lunchtimes alone eating a mince pie judging whether or not a person was a werewolf based on the amount of hair on the back of their necks.
In grade 3, I was angry all the time, and often had the fight urges to grab the person in front of me by the skull and through them across the classroom.

If we're going to go into deep detail here, I'd say that anger had a lot to do with things at home. Mum and Dad had split up when I was four, and Dad promptly decided to get abusive and smash all the windows at our new home.
Mum turned to alcoholism to cope, and I had to grow up fast. Being a kid isn't easy when you fall asleep to the sounds of your Mother being violently ill in the toilets beside you. She always drank herself to a stupor like that, and when it's something you see on a daily basis, you think it's normal.
I'm glad things changed for the better once we moved to Australia, but she still relapses from time to time.

Not to mention Dad was a raging meth addict by this time, too, and suddenly I wasn't a priority any more. I missed the way he used to be, and I should be thankful that he's sober now. But the damage has been done.
I don't blame Dad.
I don't blame anyone.


27th February 2009

I've just recovered from what I can only describe as a psychotic episode.
All of a sudden, this hideous feeling of impending doom washed over me. Usually this feeling only gets me when I'm just waking up, but this time, it struck me when I was wide awake and alert.
I started shaking, and getting paranoid something bad was going to happen. I was freaking out, and couldn't think clearly.
I was a horrible thing to experience.

I picked up my bass guitar today for the first time in what must be a year, maybe more. It bugs me that I don't know how to do anything.

I don't think there's a happier time in my day other than when the entire household is asleep and I can just sprawl out on my bed in peace.


1st March 2009

I'm becoming more and more reclusive.
I'm in my room all the time, lost in my own little world.

Mum keeps trying to reach out to me, but I keep pushing her away. She says she misses her daughter, but I don't know if I can salvage her.
I try to make an effort to communicate, but I don't know how much longer I can keep this façade going.

I just don't know why anyone wants to talk to me... Even be around me.
Sometimes I think I should just lock myself in my room and never come out. Lose myself in my den... My own world.


4th March 2009

I handed in my English draft for Alpha Dog today.
Mr Kent, who was also my teacher in grade 10, read one paragraph and said, "Ah, it's been a while since I read your writing."
That made me feel inexplicably happy. It means that not only do I have a unique way with words, but that it's also recognisable.
Finally, recognition!


5th March 2009

Pretty uneventful day.
Paid for my Senior Jersey - $70
Oh, and Helen O'Meyer put her bag on a chair so I couldn't sit there.
Bitch.
I wouldn't have sat there anyway.


7th March 2009

I've finally figured out this whole infatuation business with Will.
It's not Will I have a crush on, so to speak, it's the idea

of having a crush on someone.
So basically, I'm in love with the concept of being in love.
So in order to cure my lust for Will, I need to find someone else to be the object of my desires.
Cute deli boy at supermarket, perhaps?

I hate how fickle humans are.
I hate that I live in a world without trust.
I wish that for once I could tell someone a secret and be confident that they won't pass it on.
I can't even trust Sarah, and I consider her to be my best friend.
I wonder what trust feels like.

Okay.
So they are my ramblings for today.
Now I can tell you about people.
Why?
Because I've got time to kill.

Richard: The 48th richest man in Australia, and the first man to ever openly flirt with me.
It was an awful experience.
I was at dinner with Tash at her Dad's restaurant, when one of her regulars, Richard, stumbles over (and yes, he was quite drunk).
He introduced himself by saying how, "gorgeous" I was, and that I was, "model material".
Now, there's nothing wrong with compliments, but then it started to get creepy...
He leaned over, his breath heady with whisky and whispered, "$5000".
Obviously, I declined.
Who knows what I would have to do in return for that money?! I shudder to think.
He kept stroking me, and at one point was exclaiming about how great he was at sex.
Ugh, he was repulsive.
If he hadn't of left when he did, I probably would have spilled my drink on him.
Okay, next.

Blue: The creepy, short greasy kid who's completely in love with me at school. He's always turned right around in his chair starting at me with his stupid eyes. He never hesitates to try and latch onto any conversation I'm having with someone, usually without success.
And I never hesitate to make my disdain for him perfectly clear.


15th March 2009

Oh, I had a fun night last night.
Tash came over, and we watched some Mighty Boosh.
When Mum went to work, we cranked up the tunes and ended up trying to do my hair like Russell Brand's (with minimal success - my hair's just too silky smooth).
We got bored, and went outside to listen to music.
My brother's friend and some drunken guy (Derek?) were talking to us for a while before we were finally left alone on the trunk of the car with Tash's iPod.
My brother's friend would come out for brief stints of conversation, which would always end with us asking for alcohol.

Then suddenly, this large congregation of people swarmed the house, one of them being Gibson! Then things sort of merge together and somehow we ended up in my brother's room skulling goon (which Tash couldn't hold down, but surprisingly, I could).

Ha, fun night.
I'm surprised at how sociable I was. I guess I'm so abnormal that alcohol is the only thing that can bring me normality.


24th March 2009

I'm feeling really, really, really depressed.
More depressed than I've felt in a long time.
I can't be bothered being awake anymore.
I can't be bothered being alive anymore.
Even though it's only 8:15, I'm going to pop a bluey and subdue myself.
I'm so tired of just drifting through life.

9pm

The sleeping pill didn't work.
People don't know the truth behind my façade.
They don't know that I'm fading away, dying.
I can feel my soul beginning to wither, feel it rotting away.

1am

Is it wrong that I have a, "preferred suicide method"?
I know exactly how I'll do it, if I ever have to.
I'll get a plastic bag.
Put it over my head.
And duct-tape it as tightly closed as possible.
Sometimes I fantasize about it... Fantasize about slowly suffocating in my own expulsions of carbon dioxide. I wonder how long it'd. take... How unpleasant it'd be.
It'd just be so much easier if I could quietly slip out of my life like that, slip away from the sadness and the heartache.
This sadness is like a disease; I can feel it tearing through my veins, feeding off my sorrow, urging me deeper and deeper into depression.
I don't know how to get out of this.


12th April 2009

This world is so corrupt.
They say we live in a, "free world" but in reality we're all shackled to a concrete prison.
When we try to exercise our, "freedom of speech" in protests and public demonstrations, we're arrested for, "disruption of the peace" - political codename for deviating from the norm.

Politicians bombard the public with a cavalcade of images of, "oppressed Communist nations" in the hopes that we don't realise our own perverted repression. We don't think for ourselves, we can't

think for ourselves.
The government has a throat-hold on the television stations and they make sure that we're all getting indoctrinated into the giant propaganda machine we call our lives.
The entire world is run by this machine, run by power-hungry, money-greedy dictators.
Somebody needs to put a stop to his.


14th April 2009

I should have never gotten out of bed today; it turned out to be the worst day of my life.

It started out all right - orthodontist said we'll set the date to take my braces off in five weeks time, and then we hired out some movies.
But with the mail came evil.

Hidden amongst the bills and notices lay the sealed envelope of my impending doom.
A letter from the school stating that due to my failure of math the past two terms, I was no longer eligible for a QCE.

My whole future, my whole life, just shattered right before my eyes.
No, it doesn't matter that I've got As and Bs in EVERY other subject, oh no. They choose to dictate your life upon the results of your weakest subject.

What sort of messed up system is that?
And now I've got to go have meetings with the deputies so I can be told exactly how much of an epic failure my life is going to be.

It's weird.
I've been wanting to cry all day, but now that it's safe to, I can't.
Oh great.
MORE bottled up emotions.


16th April 2009

Mum goes on vacation tomorrow.
I know this sounds bad, but I'm actually looking forward to the break.
It'll be nice to just laze around in my room listening to music and being weird without having to worry about her barging in and wanting to talk.

I don't know what's wrong with me lately.
I've become such a recluse, preferring to spend time alone in my room with my thoughts rather than in the company of other human beings.


25th April 2009

Today was pretty good.
We walked past Mr Kent on the way to fourth period, and he commented on my Gothic literature piece, saying it was, "really beautiful".
He even went so fast as to thank me for submitting it, he enjoyed reading it so much.
It really means a lot to me to get recognition for my creative work like that.


5th May 2009

If I can't belong in my own family, where can I?
I feel like the back-up sibling, the back-up child, only needed when there's no-one else around.
Why must I get shunned everywhere I go?

I've been plagued with rather daunting thoughts today.
About the inevitability of my own mortality, and the hastiness of time.
I mean, one day I'm going to die, and everything is just going to end.
Cease to exist.
Become nothing.
It's so hard to imagine the concept of, "nothing" because even total darkness is something.
An unpleasant notion.

Well I can't believe this is the last entry of the first diary I've ever completed.
And I don't intend on stopping now, so I better go out and buy a new one.
So long and farewell.
x.



23rd May 2009

Hello diary number two, welcome to my life.
Having recently completed my first ever diary, I thought it necessary to start a new one. It is, after all, beneficial to my relieve my mind of the many toxic thoughts that swarm my consciousness.

Hey, give me a break.
I'm a teenager, after all, and therefore have angst.

At the moment though I'm relatively placid, just sheltering from the inevitable screams of elation that the American Idol finale is bound to produce.

And there they are.


24th May 2009

I suppose the main reason for the initiation of this diary is the fact that I have such a poor memory. And I wouldn't half mild remembering this time when I'm old and on the brink of death.

If people supposedly believe in God and Heaven, then why do they plead for their lives when faced with death? I think it's because subconsciously they know that nothing comes after death, that is is TRULY the end.

The concept of, "Heaven" is merely a mechanism of comfort for people in their dying moments.
It's not real.


1st June 2009

I've really been thinking about the pointlessness of life. I mean, you're born, you live briefly, and then you die, return to a state of non-existence.
Think about all the hundreds of millions of years that just... Fast-forwarded until I was born. To me, that time never happened, because I didn't exist to experience it.
It was all on fast-forward.
And it just seems illogical to believe that there'll be life AFTER death, when there wasn't life BEFORE it.

I don't think it's healthy to think about death so much.


4th June 2009

I've slipped into another depression. They come on and off periodically. I can't say for sure what instigated the trail of toxic thoughts, but now they won't leave me alone.
I've just lost all motivation to do anything.

I deleted my MySpace, Facebook and Bebo accounts because I realised last night how insignificant I really am to my peers. I'm nothing to them, just another number. I used to think that at least the people I considered to be my friends were different, but it turns out that I'm just as meaningless to them as I am to everybody else.

People don't usually notice my depressions, but those who do just think I'm being an attention seeker.
All I want to do right now is sleep, and hopefully never wake up.


10th June 2009

Is it possible to feel homesick for the past?
Because that would pretty much sum up how I fee right now.
Kids don't realise how lucky they are until it's too late. I would give anything to be a child again.
Dad's house was such a haven, and because of my naïvité, I traded it all in for an empty life in the land of gold.

I wish I could be young again! If we delve far enough through time, the memory becomes a reality.
Unfortunately for me, time travel isn't possible.


16th June 2009

D'you know what I realised? I deep-think EVERYTHING.
It's a real problem.
It's the main reason why I have no belief in God whatsoever. I just think about it and think about it and think about it until I disprove all possibilities of His existence. And although I've acknowledged this problem, there's nothing I can do about it.
I think that in order to be religious, one much have some degree of blind obedience to a, "higher power". These are the people who are simply too afraid to have complete control over their own lives, because then they'd have no-one else to blame for their mistakes but themselves.

But I'll admit that the concept is alluring.
Maybe I should try it.


20th June 2009

Mum and I watched the Diary of Anne Frank today.
It's so depressing that she, like so many others, was robbed of her life in such a brutal and callous fashion.
I've already lived longer than Anne Frank, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. Anne had so much passion and determination - knew exactly where she wanted to go in life and how to get there. And yet she wasn't even given a chance to live it.
And here I am, just cruising through life and letting it blatantly pass me by. I'd trade places with Anne in a heartbeat, if it meant she could live her life.

I need to get off my ass, stop feeling sorry for myself and finish my book.
I've wasted sixteen years of my life already.


22nd June 2009

Dad rang today.
He wants me to go over on the 1st.
Talk about short notice.
I was talking to my Step-Mum as well, and she was saying how Dad talks about me all the time - says he's proud of me.
If only he knew he had nothing to be proud of.
I'm such a failure, such a waste of space.
I can tell Dad misses me, and I hate myself for moving here and hurting him so badly.
I was naïve back then - I didn't think of the emotional consequences that we'd all have to face.
And so that's why when Mum tries to convince me against going (which she will because she'll miss me too) I'll still go.
I owe Dad that much.


23rd June 2009

My tears are poisonous.
I hate that we came here.
I hate everything I've done for the past five years of my life.
I suppose lessons on gratitude had to be learned, but surely there was an easier way?
Anything is easier than this.


9th July 2009

I hate that I have to get used to missing someone. And to make things worse, I have no-one that knows that I'm going through right now. Everyone palms me off as being emotional and melodramatic, but sometimes I just wish someone would listen... Genuinely want to listen.
My grief feels like venom.


4th of October 2009

Why do have to doubt EVERYTHING?!
Why can't I ever truly accept that someone wants to be my friend? I feel so alone. I'm drowning in my own self-doubt and misery. I just want a friend.

I know I haven't written for a while, yaddi-yadda.
I haven't been able to bring myself to.
I've been trapped in this void of darkness for so long, I'm beginning to believe I'll die down here.


5th October 2009

I think there comes a time in everyone's lives when they realise they don't want to be alive any more.
Mine was just then.


26th October 2009

Last night was a good night.
For the first time in a long time, my mind was happy. It didn't try to poison my friendships with negative thoughts and paranoia.

It won't last, thought.


23rd November 2009

Possibly the best time in my life has just ended.
High-school.
Although it was an extremely painful experience, I know I'll miss the stability.
I have a sneaking suspicion that my life is dawning on a very dull and lonely time.
I think I just need to escape this bottomless rut my life has become, and maybe then my depression would lift.
I wish I could re-do high-school so that I could make something memorable of myself, instead of the invisible loser I left as.

14th December 2009

I'm sick of this family being so dysfunctional.
I have no friends left.
I hate living here.


Christmas Eve

I'm so desperately unhappy here.
Mum's drunk and in my brother's room, just like old times. She's probably going to be too hungover to make Christmas dinner tomorrow.

It doesn't matter that I do all the pre-Christmas shopping with her, or that I spend my entire pay check on her so that SHE can have a nice Christmas, I'm just never going to be as good as my brother.
It doesn't matter that he treats her like the dog's shit on the bottom of his shoe; he has the booze, the music and the friends.
I hate my life.




2nd September 2010

I can't believe what my life has turned into.
It's my first official entry this year, and I can't say the mood has lifted much since my morose Christmas Eve entry.
I never did write to say that Christmas turned out just fine, not that it matters now.

My predication last year was correct. My life has dawned on a very dull and lonely time.
I've sunk deeper into my depression than I ever have before.
But I suppose a catch-up is in order.

Once high-school ended, I couldn't maintain the pretence that everything was okay. I withdrew into myself, shutting out everyone and everything.
I brought my depression out of captivity; I curled myself up in a blanket on the floor in front of the TV and barely ate, barely spoke, barely moved.
Mum could see how depressed I was, and decided it would be best if I spent some time in New Zealand.

She didn't expect me to stay there five and a half months.

It was at this time that my friendship with Sarah started to break down.
I was looking for any excuse to pick a fight with her, and in hindsight, it was pretty childish. But I was blinded by the way I was feeling, and needed to lash out at someone.
So starting from the week before I left and continuing over the next four months, we had a series of mini-fights that ultimately lead up to the final explosion.
I burned every bridge, made sure she'd never want to speak to me again.
And at the time, I was extremely pleased with myself.

Over the next month or so, Sarah barely crossed my mind.
It wasn't until I got home that I started to miss her. I didn't have that, "just around the corner" friend anymore, and not just a friend, but a best

friend.
I didn't have a friend who I could just text on a whim and walk to her house.
But by now, my steps couldn't be retraced. Too much damage had been done by my unbridled spite that, in retrospect, I really wanted to aim at myself. Sarah was just an unfortunate victim.

I don't know where to go from here.
I cannot find a job ANYWHERE, not to mention I haven't got a single friend to my name. I spend my days sleeping as much as possible, never wanting to get up.
I hate this life.
I just wish I had the courage to top myself.


That was seven months ago, and I'm glad to say that I've moved mountains since then.
My Mum really persevered with me, knocking down my boundaries one by one and forcing herself into my bottomless chasm of misery.

She made me realise just how much help I needed.
It wasn't healthy to think about suicide as often as I did - in fact, it's NEVER healthy to think about suicide.

I know that I've still got a long while to go until I'm 100% recovered, and I'm fully aware that my depression could flare up any time, any where, during the course of my life. But for now I'm taking one day at a time, and making sure I savour the good moments as they happen.

I'm starting University in July, and I can honestly say I'm excited about it. For the first time in a long time I have something to look forward to, and I can only thank my Mother for that. No matter how many words of hatred I shot at her, she continued on, forcing me out of my depression. The mist eventually lifted, and I've never seen life clearer.

I've got friends, I've got a life... I've got a future.
And you can too.
Never give up on yourself - Life is the most precious gift you have, so please don't squander it. I was lucky enough to have my Mother by my side, but I know not everyone has that. So that's why I hope that this diary has inspired you to fix yourself, to seek help.
You've got nothing to do.
My self-destructive ways ruined some of the best parts of my teenage years, and for that I'm bitterly sorry. But I'm trying to look forward the best I can, and that's probably the best advice I could give.

Always look forward.

You never know what ray of sunshine will be around the next corner.

And of course there will be pitfalls where you will stumble and question everything, but you need to just get back to your feet and carry on.

Don't let Depression win.
You have worth.
You have value.
And most importantly, you are loved

.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.05.2011

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Widmung:
Dedicated to my Mother, who saw the signs and knew what to do.