04-6-2011 at 10:14 PM

<i>"When kids talk about how depressed they are, I'm well aware that most times it's not the depression I've always struggled with and always will struggle with."</i><br>errr... I think ZJ meant that not everybody has the same problems :I

04-5-2011 at 9:40 PM

<i>ZJ I'm sorry if this sounds rude but you go on and on about people having to "one up" each other in stories and such but yet after that you go and say<br /> <br /> "When kids talk about how depressed they are, I'm well aware that most times it's not the depression I've always struggled with and always will struggle with."</i><br /> <br /> That was exactly my point a little farther down. :P

04-5-2011 at 3:52 PM

ZJ I'm sorry if this sounds rude but you go on and on about people having to "one up" each other in stories and such but yet after that you go and say <br /> <br /> "When kids talk about how depressed they are, I'm well aware that most times it's not the depression I've always struggled with and always will struggle with."<br /> <br /> That just sounds like you are trying to one up most people right there, at least to me it does. The only reason I've been able to openly say some of my story is because I've come to terms with my life and that it won't change. I hate my story and no one should want to "one up" an already bad story but people are different in their search for someone to talk to. <br /> <br /> In my mind what you are basically saying is that no one has depression as bad as you, but really you can't say that because you just <b>don't know</b>.<br /> <br /> That's my two cents.

04-5-2011 at 4:48 AM

oh. i read both as "father" - forgive me. :)

04-5-2011 at 4:32 AM

Eh, I don't know how I am going to do this but I have to say I have never been neglected by my parents. On the contrary, they have been wonderful. It's my sister who has caused me all the pain (and sometimes joy).<br /> <br /> Now my sister is 2 years younger than me, but she is more headstrong. I am a quite person who is a wimp. And my sister for the last 10 or so years of her life has always put me down by calling me untalented, ugly, stupid, and she has hit me a lot. And I think because of her always putting me down I might have a low self esteem. I don't care what I look like because all I see is just ugliness, I have a hard time taking compliments about my physical appearence (or talent wise). I also don't stand up for myself that much and still don't and I get paranoid easily. It is just to much now and again, I am not clinically depressed but I know I have some really bad times. And they can last up to weeks, once in a 'bad time' I was thinking about suicide. But I thought I concluded it wasn't worth it. And also I have a hard time being social with people because I get picked on so very easily, so I don't trust many people.<br /> <br /> I know my background is nothing compared to others on here but I felt the need to post here.

04-5-2011 at 3:38 AM

Her stepfather hit her, but her real dad never did.

04-4-2011 at 7:54 AM

i don't mean to sound.. insensitive or anything? but in the beginning of your post, Larthan, you said your dad hit you.. and then at the end you said he never hit you.

04-3-2011 at 12:26 AM

I also just want to add that...just because someone is "worse" than you are in terms of mental health, please don't degrade them for it. It's not as if they asked for their problems, much the same way no one here asked for theirs.<br /> <br /> Of all the places, you'd think this thread would be more sensitive to that fact. :/

04-3-2011 at 12:11 AM

<i>"But the fact is, the majority of the stories I hear about depression or how awful life is come from people who are either lying or who have no idea how awful life could be."</i><br /> <br /> I find that in some cases, this is true. However, not everyone deals with every situation the same way. There are approximately 120 million people struggling with depression in the world. Who's to say what these kids are feeling isn't real? Because they're younger, maybe they just don't know how to express it in a mature or rational manner. Who knows? <br /> <br /> The "one-up" thing really, really pisses me off. I'm not one for the sympathy olympics. But in that same line, how can you say <i>"I'm well aware that most times it's not the depression I've always struggled with and always will struggle with."</i>?<br /> <br /> Not everyone who claims they're depressed, is. I don't doubt that for a second. But everyone struggles with <i>something</i> in life. <br /> <br /> This year I was on my school's mock trial team as a lawyer. A couple months previous to the competition, our coach brought in one of his former students (one who everyone who had taken his class had heard stories about) to help us prepare. He competes on a nationally ranked team. I was intimidated as hell. <br /> <br /> He went back to college after winter break. I texted him again the day before the competition telling him how I was absolutely sick to my stomach nervous. He told me he'd be at the courthouse in the morning, to watch us compete. At the time, I kind of wanted to cry. Little did I know he'd have a lasting impact on me.<br /> <br /> After the competition, the team went out to dinner, then we just hung out for a few hours. He ended up driving me home. We ended up in my driveway, and we talked for almost two hours. I told him that I was currently experiencing some rough crap in life, embellished with many "Oh, it's fine though, really's." and "I'm okay's." I'm not really comfortable talking about my problems in a face to face setting. And then he told me his story. He'd been through so much. I looked over at him and said "Wow...I just feel awful because my situation is nothing compared to that." He then looked me in the eyes and said something I'll never in my life forget:<br /> <br /> "That doesn't make what you're going through any less significant."<br /> <br /> And I don't think that anyone, no matter what their problems are should be made to feel that way.

04-3-2011 at 12:09 AM

That's precisely why I don't get into those sort of discussions, ZJ...and why I won't be posting here with my experiences. Well, that and the fact that remembering all of that nonsense isn't really what I want to do with my day. <br><br>When it comes up in chat, I usually just go quiet, but I have messaged people privately to ask if they want to talk about it/give advice I think they could use. I think that's honestly the best answer to someone bringing it up...public "one-up-ing" just tends to make the person think it's normal and that since others have it worse, they should stop complaining. I know that's one of the major reasons I didn't seek help, myself, for many years.

04-2-2011 at 1:31 PM

Agreed, ZJ. I've seen it happen in chat, too. It's almost disturbing.<br>I wouldn't want a kid to come into chat and say <i>"im so depressed :( my parents suck"</i> to have someone jump in and say <i>"OH YEAH? WELL <b>MY</b> PARENTS HIT ME YESTERDAY!"</i>

04-2-2011 at 11:04 AM

What I want to do is touch on the thing Alex mentioned about kids talking about things in chat.<br /> <br /> It's something I'm torn on. I've come across younger kids on the internet with problems, legitimate hard problems, in life who just need someone to talk to and to help them. And I'm glad to be that ear.<br /> <br /> But what I see in chat quite often is a "one up manship" where everyone tries to outdo everyone else with how bad they have it. Who one day talk about how amazing their parents are and look they buy me this or that, but then when someone talks about how awful their parents are they go on about how their parents are evil people and they'd rather be in foster care.<br /> <br /> It worries me to talk about things in chat then of a serious nature, lest these kids take part in this. It's not something where adults talk about their pasts and struggles but rather an attempt to be the best of the worst.<br /> <br /> When kids talk about how depressed they are, I'm well aware that most times it's not the depression I've always struggled with and always will struggle with.<br /> <br /> Where do we draw this line of sharing and choosing not to so as to not cause some sort of "worst" championship? <br /> <br /> I want to help the kids who legitimately need help, who need to be guided to safe haven places both online and real life. But the fact is, the majority of the stories I hear about depression or how awful life is come from people who are either lying or who have no idea how awful life could be. <br /> <br /> It makes it very difficult to deal with the people who really do need help, as they get lost in the sea of voices that claim how awful their life is too.<br /> <br /> Ideas? Opinions? Over the years I've been lucky to be able to help seriously depressed teens get into therapy, I've been happy to see them recover and go on to live happier lives. But it seems to me I just want to leave chat whenever these worst championships show up because 99% of the time it's a bunch of lies for negative attention. Something I want to discourage, because people shouldn't be rewarded for that.

04-1-2011 at 7:42 AM

stupid double post...

04-1-2011 at 7:40 AM

I've had some rough times, but fortunately I get pulled back into reality before I commit suicide. <br /> <br /> I have general anxiety disorder and major depressive disorder. I suppose it really started going downhill in high school but before that...<br /> <br /> My first trauma was during my third birthday. It was my first memory and I faintly remember it. I had a birthday hat on and some kid choked me with the string when he knew the parents were busy in the kitchen and we were playing in the field with older kids that could of prevented it... but didn't care. I think this may of been the reason I hardly talked as a kid. I was afraid of people. <br /> <br /> When I was five, my second trauma happened. My babysitters son trapped me in a room, telling me I couldn't play his video game unless I did what he said. I was always fascinated with it since my parents didn't allow video games, so I agreed, not knowing that he rap.e me... I didn't know what it was at the time, but I remember him shoving me down hard and practically ripping off my pants...<br /> <br /> In about 2nd Grade, I remember I went to the bathroom one day and saw my name written in permanent marker with a F*** YOU! I have no idea to this day who or why someone did it, but it was repainted over by my teacher, appeared again, insulting my only friend, then next was a bomb threat. It was scary as hell, and it was investigated. <br /> <br /> I know kids made fun of me all the time... and kids do this as you grow up no matter what. But I guess I was so fragile and already shut down so much that I had such a low self-esteem by middle school. <br /> <br /> Sixth and seventh was a blur. I steadily gained weigh because food made me feel good. I started to throw it up once in a while, but I stopped because I got scared when my throat became really raw one day. <br /> <br /> During eighth grade, I was molested again. A guy liked me and I went along with it though I was really uncomfortable. He forced me to give him a bj under the stairs, and I was scared because I thought he was just going to kiss me. He told everyone and his girlfriend though it was my fault (I didn't know he had one.) It followed me to Junior year, people asking about it or calling me names. I never went out with him but really wanted a date freshman homecoming and agreed to go... but regretted it when he kissed a bunch of girls afterwords (after kissing me) and told me he would never go out with me because he didn't want someone like me, I was just his last choice. <br /> I broke off connection with him and became very skiddish with anything slightly sexual. <br /> <br /> I think I mulled over this, and a couple of other encounters throughout highschool, causing me to spiral into a suicidal mess. I just didn't want to live... but couldn't do it since I actually had loving parents. <br /> <br /> I was brought out of it when I stated going out with my boyfriend (we are still together and been with him for three years). <br /> <br /> The only thing was during my first year of college, I started become distant with everyone again and decided to plan suicide by leaving to Florida and working for Disney to get away from EVERYONE. <br /> My so called plan did make me more depressed... the work was degrading and back-breaking for minimum wage. It wasn't worth it. <br /> <br /> One night, when I was going home, a so called friend asked me if he could give me a ride instead of taking the bus that I missed. I agreed... since I just trust people... sadly. He ended up rap.ed me in his backseat, and I was freaking out since he didn't even have a condo.m on and that I had a boyfriend... but he told I was too uptight and flat out told me he didn't care about ruining my life. <br /> <br /> Well, I ended up telling my boyfriend. He was upset that I left to another state and misinterpreted is I actually cheated. I freaked the hell out, because he was my last connection to my sanity. <br /> <br /> I ended up trying pot to see if I could forget, but it didn't work, got so upset that I got so low and did drugs, and just went nuts one day at work, crying. My manager asked what was wrong and I just said I didn't want to live anymore...<br /> <br /> And I ended up in a mental hospital. I was stranded an hour away from my apartment. The security at disney just dropped me off without anything. The first night, it took 24 hours to check in, so I didn't even get a room to sleep in and was only fed one meal, surrounded by angry, psycho, and literally messed up as they can get kind of people. I have depression... but I know I wasn't THAT messed up. <br /> <br /> It was the worst thing ever, and I was treated like a prisoner. I didn't eat the last four days, so they watched me if I ate and I wasn't allowed out if i didn't eat my food etc. I forced it down (and sometimes gave it away). It got out after four nights, but... I had no way home. <br /> <br /> The hospital set me up with a cab driver. This cab driver, however, scammed me $50 over and told me to come over his house and was super creepy. <br /> <br /> I got back to my apartment... shattered. Then a few days later, the house management for Disney thought I was a threat to their business and said they would force me off their property in less than 48 hours. <br /> <br /> I had to call my parents and they freaked out... I had to buy a plane ticket and pack at the last second, get to the airport etc....<br /> <br /> Since then (about a year ago) I've been going to a psychiatrist and my boyfriend realized he was in the wrong and is taking good care of me. My medication keeps me out of my ruts, but I have my days and I still eat and sleep abnormally. <br /> <br /> So... yeah. I don't post much, but felt like sharing.

03-24-2011 at 1:16 PM

My story looks like popcical sticks to you guys. (I'll edit it later)<br /> <br /> I really don't know what to say, with such a thing I'm just lost for words. I think no one should ever tells anyone their ugly or fat. I seem to see a lot of young girls (13,14) at my old school who have had children and just dump the baby off at their parents. I see them drink, smoke (while pregnant) and neglect them. It worries me what will become of them.

03-23-2011 at 6:10 PM

I guess my story starts off when I was really little. I had a babysitter up until I was 7 years old and my parents divorced. He was always nice and brought over toys that I could play with and stuff but around 5 almost 6 years old he started touching me and my parents never believed me. When I was 7 my parents divorced and I no longer had that babysitter but my parents still didn't believe me. I had chosen now to live with my mother and we moved almost an hour away from my father to live with her boyfriend, who I know now that she was seeing when she was with my father. Soon after I started the third grade my little brother was born, who I also later found out that my mom was pregnant when she divorced my dad and it wasn't my dads.<br /> <br /> When my brother was born I was ignored and cast aside. They moved my room to the basement to give my brother my old room and it was cold down there and there were always spiders and such. On top of my parents ignoring me I didn't have a single friend in my new school. From 3rd to 5th grade I didn't have a friend there for me. I would be ridiculed for being overweight and it caused me to become depressed even as a child.<br /> <br /> When I reached middle school I was still made fun of and I was able to find a small group of friends that were nice to me. I changed in middle school though. I became a bully and tried to scare people into liking me. All I wanted were friends and I had no other way to get them. I also started creating my art then. In the seventh grade my mother found my sketch book and she had said she liked it but she left it out after looking at it. My little brother got to it and drew all over it. After I went up to my mother histerically crying she just brushed it off and told me to get over it. Throughout this entire time my real father and I had a very close bond.<br /> <br /> Moving on to high school. My freshman year started out quiet and I had found a sport that was calm and that I liked, bowling. After joining the team there was this guy that was two grades higher than me and he was sweet. After the season ended he asked me out on February 28th. We had dated and everything was fine until spring break in April. We had planned to go to my dad's. He now lived in West Virginia and he allowed me to bring my boyfriend. Everything was fine the first two days, I stayed in my bed and he stayed on the couch. The third day was when it happened. My boyfriend came into my room to lay with me but after a while he started to touch me. I told him to stop but he said it was okay. I still didn't feel comfortable and I struggled. He then procceeded towhoa there me and hoold a pillow over my face. After the morning came he was on the couch and I was afraid to move but I went to tell my dad. My dad didn't believe me and he said my boyfriend was on the couch the whole night. For the next four nights my boyfriend repeatedly held a pillow over my face to muffle my screams andwhoa there me. When I got home I told my mom who didn't believe me.<br /> <br /> Several months later she believed me then because apparently it happened to another girl and she went to court with him and my mom found out. The damage was already done though. My sophmore year I met another guy who seemed fine but I was cautious now. He was my age and we took everything slow. We stayed together from December to September of my Junior year because he then turned abusive because I wouldn't sleep with him. After being able to get away from him I just lost all confidence and respect for myself. I began going to parties and drinking to forget, I would also smoke weed and do other various drugs just to forget my life. I began to sleep around because I thought that would make guys want me. Yeah guys wanted me but only for what I could give them for one night.<br /> <br /> The beginning of my senior year is when I cleaned up. I stopped sleeping around and doing drugs. I stopped drinking and focused on school. I was happy on the outside and I had friends but on the inside I was completely broken. I would go home and cry myself to sleep and my mother would just ridicule me and not believe me. I began to gain weight and my mother then thought I was pregnant. She threw me out without even letting me explain that I wasn't pregnant and such. For two months I wasn't allowed home and I lived out of my car. After finally being able to go home I distanced myself even more. My mom only became proud of me when I graduated and was accepted to several colleges. Of course all of them were in different states but my mother made me go to the one that was close to us, the community college ten minutes down the road. Not liking it there I became unmotivated and just tired. I was slowly slipping into severe depression. I stopped going to class and I stopped eating and talking to people. They had to force feed me until about Thanksgiving of 2010. I was still depressed but I had learned to hide it. I dropped out of school as well and just worked mostly. At the time I was working three jobs to have money which was apparently being stolen from me by my mother I later found out. After buying a safe and getting a new bank account I stopped that. Come my 19th birthday was when my mother became even worse. She would put me down more and then when I filed taxes she said she was taking them from me. <br /> <br /> Now at a month later, present day, I still have depression issues, bi polar disorder, social anxiety, and a world of phobias. I'm currently moving out and my mother is giving me hell the entire way.

03-22-2011 at 7:02 PM

Larthan, I can't even imagine experiencing that that. Is there anything you can do now that you're out of the house and 18? :/ I don't understand how you could have been sent to a mental hospital for that. Shouldn't you have been taken into protective custody? <br /> <br /> My best friend doesn't even know this, but I've been sent to a mental hospital on one occasion for depression. They treated me like a criminal. I got screamed at for moving. I was never hungry and they threatened to keep me there longer if I didn't eat. I'd been a pretty easygoing kid before that, I was kind of a wimp and never wanted to be "bad". I seriously considered breaking out of the place and making a run for my friend's house. I had been wearing his jacket when my mom dropped me off there. I spent three nights clinging to it for dear life when I couldn't sleep, wishing he would come save me. Most of the staff were large males (all of the current patients were male) and they brought in a younger female worker because I was there. For the day she was there, she whined and complained, saying it was my fault that she had to be there directly in front of me. The current condition of our mental health program is absolutely disgusting. I wasn't there because I did anything wrong. I was there because I needed help. How could that ever possibly justify their methods?<br /> <br /> I suppose that's a little off topic. But I got that way because of my stepmother. I experienced a different kind of abuse. From the time I was 6 to the time I was 14, my stepmom tried to force me to gain weight. Not just a couple pounds either. By the time I was 12, she was demanding I weigh 130 pounds. I don't weigh that now. Not by a long shot. She would tell me "No boy will ever want you.", "You look gross.", etc. She'd starve me all day (while allowing her two sons to have whatever they wanted) and then put some extravagant meal in front of me so I'd devour it (I rarely did) and then if I didn't eat as much as she wanted me to, I'd be punished. When I was 12, I was wearing a children's size 12 in jeans. She tried to convince me it was the same size as an adult's 5, the size she wore. A FIVE! She did the same thing to her own daughter. She's now 14 and bordering on 200 pounds. <br /> <br /> I remember when I was thirteen, she sent me to summer camp for the day, and at this point I had developed rather severe social anxiety. Her kids were allowed to stay home and have fun. When I came home one afternoon she had thrown away my entire wardrobe and replaced it with children's clothing. She bought me tacky stretchy rainbow colored sweats, purple cargo pants, frilly baby pink shirts, atrocious sweaters and made me wear them every time we went out. I was 13, she was dressing me like a toddler! I had just started finding out who I was, and she removed what really at the time made me, me. I cried for seven hours. She broke me that day.<br /> <br /> I believe she's very jealous and vain. What other reason do you have to try and convince a pre-teen you can wear the same sized jeans as her? In what f**ked up place is that sane, healthy or even normal?<br /> <br /> I have since struggled with depression as mentioned, anorexia and poor self esteem. I only started to get over it when I got to high school, and boys *did* start paying attention to me. I still have my days. I can go from being incredibly confident to the point of being arrogant about it to being in the fetal position in front of a mirror, bawling my eyes out because I don't like what I see. I still have a hard time eating in front of people, and if I know I'll be hanging out with guys I won't eat the entire day until I get home. It's a process, I guess.<br /> <br />

03-22-2011 at 1:31 PM

Basically, my stepfather repeatedly ra.ped me from the time I was about 13 until I was 17. I finally decided to call the police and tell them, since the main reason I didn't was because of his threats to kill my father (who had died now).<br /> He'd often make me choose between letting him kill my dog (who I raised from 2 days old - very attached..) or beating me as much as he wanted.<br /> He also held me a foot off the ground by my neck because I stood up too straight when he told me to stand up after hitting me. It really messed up my throat and ears, and I haven't been able to hear myself since then. I had to give up Choir because of it.<br /> He decided I wasn't allowed to have a job, have friends over to the house, or ever go to a friend's house, or out of the house without him there, for fear that I'd say something.<br /> I finally came out to the police and my mother when I was sick one day, and had to stay home from school. He went to work, and I called the police to tell them, and then woke up my mother and told her everything.<br /> After my mother forced me to go into a mental hospital for three months, because she "couldn't handle me," I had to lie to get out (saying it was my fault for the things he did to me), and I was guilt-tripped into saying I lied about everything, so that he could get out and my mother could have her husband back.<br /> My mother then proceeded to kick me out of the house to go live with my aunt and uncle (his brother and his brother's wife) because I was a sl.ut and a sk.ank and tried to steal her man away from her, what a filthy wh.ore I was etc...<br /> I was also forced to go and spend time with them because my stepfather somehow convinced my mother, and he proceeded to continue to molest me while I was over there visiting.<br /> <br /> Eventually, I ran away. and they got scared I was going to report him or something and have him sent to jail again, so they used the internet and hired private investigators to track me down, find out where I was living, who I was living with, all the information they could about the guy, etc.<br /> <br /> They also left threatening emails and Instant Messages on my messengers, saying they were going to "track me down and get me back" - note, at this time, I'm 18, and can do whatever the hell I want...<br /> <br /> Eventually, I started talking to them again because they were being.. well, civil. I should have known better.<br /> <br /> I went to visit, to pick up some of my things that I'd had to leave behind, and my stepfather managed to corner me, hold me down by my hair, and tell me he was going to burn down the house I was living in, kill my cats and my boyfriend, and make me watch before killing me. He was drunk, admittedly, and claimed he didn't remember saying any of it, but it still haunted me for a while...<br /> <br /> Then, with the breakup between myself and the boyfriend, I moved once more, only I didn't tell anyone where I was moving, and I haven't registered myself here yet, still. Though I have to do that this month, I'm still hesitant, because I've cut off all ties with them, told them not to contact me. I even had to call the police because they reported me as a missing person AFTER I told them I wasn't going to tell them where I moved (falsely claiming I was missing).<br /> <br /> My mother also, when I was growing up and even when I was talking to her after moving, would remind me that I was a mistake, never meant to be born, and that she wished I would have been a boy anyway and that if I were a boy, or if I hadn't been born, my dad wouldn't have left her. :/<br /> <br /> My father was a good man, though. Sure, he got drunk more than he probably should have, but he never hit me. Never yelled at me. Would calmly sit me down and explain that I shouldn't do bad things, and told me what would happen if I did choose to do those things, and who it would affect.<br /> I miss him, and it's sad that he died of Leukemia.. but I still have to remember that if he hadn't, I would have had a reason to still not tell anyone about what was going on.<br /> <br /> As another note, my stepfather is Bipolar, and refuses to take medication for it. He can be nice and polite and a wonderful person one moment, and then turn around and want to kill you the next. He's also impossible to read if he's joking or not, because he says things with a straight face, in a way that someone who would be serious would say things.<br /> <br /> Surprisingly, this hasn't messed up my sex-life, and I'm still able to make friends with and be around men, and have a boyfriend and a healthy sexual relationship with him. I've come to terms with the fact that it was this one man who did these things, and he is the only one I'm afraid of.

03-22-2011 at 1:13 PM

I love hearing others life stories and expierences. Ill be talking about mine probably when I get on a computer.