Suicide, a scary subject I know, but it is not discussed or addressed as openly as it should be. We are not taught how to help others who may need our help, our compassion, our empathy. We need to teach everyone how to respect others’ feelings, life choices and be supportive to prevent dangerous thoughts and self-harming actions from even existing.

Depression and suicidal thoughts are a growing problem. You may even know someone who is struggling right now. I do, I was one of them. I can relate to this subject. I have felt the dark thoughts and have been in the dark places of my own mind and I am not afraid to talk about it

Depression can be hereditary. In my family we have a long history of depression on both sides including my grandma and my dad and now me. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, I also have some ADHD and possibly minor dyslexia. It was 6th grade when we noticed something might be different about my brain. I have always struggled with changes or transitions and 6th grade was a big one for me. My grades dropped along with my mood. I became self-deprecating, sad and did not feel like I could do anything right. But I was trying to project to others that I was fine. It continued into 7th and 8th grade not getting worse but not getting a lot better either. I then went into high school and everything changed again.

I crashed. I spiraled down into a place I could not pull myself out of. The stress of school along with some negative influences I had surrounded myself with, I cracked. I did things I regret, things that broke my parents’ hearts, things I cannot forget. I have scars both inside and out. The scars are hardly visible now, but I still know they are there every day. I thought about dying, I thought so much about dying. I did know I would never act on it. When I crashed my mom was there to comfort me as I sobbed in my dark room on the floor. I felt like everything was crashing down on me. I knew I needed help so we went to the emergency room and then to Stormont Vail mental health facility.

Stormont Vail is a mental health facility for children, teens, and young adults like me. This facility is there to help with a lot of different issues such as anger or behavioral issues, substance abuse, self-harm or suicide to mention a few. I was shocked to see such young kids there with me. I was alone and terrified. I had to be taken by a special transport vehicle which means my parents couldn’t go with me. I arrived late at night and I had to share a room with a stranger. I was surprised I was able to sleep at all that first night.

I cried so much the first day. I missed my family, my home, my friends and I wanted out. I knew I needed to stay in order to get the help I needed so I warmed up. I began to get to know some of the other kids there. I talked with doctors, nurses and even did some art therapy. I began to realize and learn what makes me happy. I learned about what positive and negative influences are in my life. I also learned that I was not broken and I was not alone. Along with just spending time thinking. I did do some reading. My mom brought me, The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan where my dad had tucked a special note. This book holds a special place in my heart till this day, books were always an escape for me when I was overwhelmed, the fantasy worlds distracting me easily. He knew what I was going through to some extent. He has had some of the same feelings. He also knew he needed help and got it from a group who specifically works with law enforcement. He came back to us better than ever.

I returned home, just like my dad, better than ever. I learned things to help me like breathing techniques, writing my feeling down, using music or art to calm down. I still go to therapy every month and I still struggle everyday to not get overwhelmed. My mom, aunt, sister and a great friend picked me up from Stormont Vail and brought me home. My friend hugged me and would not let me go all the way home. He was so worried about me just like the rest of my family.

It was really hard on my family while I was there, they felt helpless. Even my dog was an absolute mess. She barely ate and would run to the car door every time to see if they had brought me home. I was surprised she even knew I was gone. I felt so happy to be home, it was my reason to keep going, so I do.

This all happened last year. I’m better now. I have a great small group of friends who are positive influences for me. I have a girlfriend I love dearly and I have a wonderful family. I have a good feeling about my future. I feel amazing.

I don’t mind talking about my depression, my story, it makes us who we are. If me talking about my story saves one person or makes one person feel comfortable for asking for help, I have won. You are not alone.