Personal Narrative: My Experience With Depression

I have noticed myself being constantly pessimistic, expecting the worst and having thought of what if I wasn’t here, in this world, in this moment. No one ever diagnosed me with depression, I just assumed I was; having suicidal thoughts, self-harming myself, being distant from my family and friends, and always forgetting to eat. It got to the point where I just did what people told me to do, since I never knew what I wanted to do.
The relationships I had with my family is not the dictionary normal. We never talked, which seemed shocking to all of my friends. My father was always getting drunk and being abusive towards me. Constantly yelling at me when no one was around. I’ve never felt so alone, being surrounded by so many people. The memories I shared with my sibling playing mud fights and scavenger hunts were only seen in photographic images, for I don’t remember them anymore.
My mother never questioned my habits, nor noticed them. I remained in my room every day, unless I had to leave for school, or use the restroom. She never asked what’s wrong. She just asked if I wanted anything to eat, or go out to town. My friends saw me as this joyful person who occasionally showed up with fresh cuts across her arms. We all knew what was going on, but no asked why. Every school day I stayed afterschool to avoid going home early and being stuck in my
College was my way out of this shitty town. I had no idea what I wanted to study or who I wanted to become. I had no role models to look up to, only counselors giving me options. After applying to colleges that my cousin forced me into, I knew this was my way out. I did not want another moment in this shitty town or place called home. Once I moved to CSUMB and meeting friends, the thoughts of wanting to die minimized. My journal writing decreased. I attended support group sessions that helped me meet new people. And then I realized I’m not