I think it's time for a new journal entree. Mainly because a lot of things are happening that I cannot control. Parents are too observitive. "Maggie, why are your cheeks flushed?" I was forced to answer, "Oh, it's the cold, and such." We all know that's not true. Let me tell you my story:
Five months ago, a small depression hit me. It wasn't much, but I was just feeling down, and I didn't want to talk to anybody. Normal teenager stuff, eh? Well, through the weeks it has just gone downhill. The small thoughts of depression and hoplessness turned into lonliness, severe depression, and thoughts of suicide. I've become religiously confused, and it feels as if I'm done for, even though I know there are ways I can help myself.
In the past week, it has gotten so bad. I told my friend that I was depressed, and she said:
"I know how you feel. I recently told my mom I was having thoughts of depression and such, and she got my a therapist for it. I've been wanted to go to school with a gun and shoot everybody, I've been wanting to end my life, I just didn't know what to do."
We talked for a long time, and she ended up inviting me over. Well, yesterday I slept over at her house. She said that I could talk to her mom if I wanted, and everything was confedential. The problem was, she had so many cousins over, and other friends, not to mention I don't know her well enough to tell her everything. So my friend and I just talked, trying to make me feel better. It was late at night, around one o' clock. At about one thirty, we decided to go to bed. I wasn't feeling much better (depression isn't that easy), but I got into my sleeping bag with new thoughts. Well, ok...bed time right? Wrong. For the past five days I haven't been able to sleep well at all. And I told her that. She was going to drug me, but we decided that's not the best idea. So she just went to sleep and left me to fend for myself. I just lay awake, looking up at the ceilling for the longest time. And suddenly, I got a panic attack. I started to breathe shallowly, my body froze up, I got dizzy, and I felt like I was going to throw up. My friend could hear me, and she tiredly said, "Just take deep breathes." So I took deep breathes, and it calmed me down a little, but that wasn't the end of them. I ended up getting up and going into the kitchen. There was a light there, which was reasurring. I walked off the panic attack. I figured it would make me tired. I walked around the island in her kitchen more than three hundred times, and a whole hour. It was four o' clock by the time that was over.
I got back into my sleeping bag, another panic attack. This time I pulled the covers over my head and tried to breathe from there. When I calmed down some, I went back into the kitchen and started to count things. Twelve bottles of alchohol on top of the fridge, Twenty seven knives, and one pair of scizzors. Two hollow tiles in the floor. Three different pitches of machines. And four cats to be seen. Two were hiding and eight were outside. It turned out to pass another hour. Still wide awake and not the least bit tired. I went back into my sleeping back and tried to sleep yet again. This time I became frusterated and started to cry. Childish. But it felt good to get some emotions out. I lay down and looked up at the cielling. I closed my eyes, hummed to myself, all the sleeping tricks that normally works. Nothing. By this time it was five thirty, close to the time I wake up for school. I went upstairs, used the restroom, came back downstairs and pet the cats. At six o' clock, my friend's brother's girlfriend came into the house to pick him up for the Rennesaince Festival. She was surprised I was still up, but she understood. I sat on the couch until they left, yet again feeling lonely. Many small panic attacks struck me through the minutes. And around six, I just sat on my sleeping bag, waiting for the time somebody would wake up. I went into the kitchen to check the time, and went to a mindless mode sitting in that position for 45 minutes. The closest thing I could classify as sleep. And at 9:30, My friend woke up. I didn't say anything to her, I just said that I only got 45 minutes of sleep.
So you see what I had to go through? This has been a repeat of the last five days. Except it's the worst it's ever been. I've been hiding my tears all day from my parents. I talked to Hannah about it. And guess what? She told her mom? Now her mom might tell my mom, and everything would be ruined. I should tell her, I know that...but she would think she did something wrong. I need proffesional help, I can't handle this on my own. And apparently my friends can't either. Please...give me some advice.
-Maggie-
Five months ago, a small depression hit me. It wasn't much, but I was just feeling down, and I didn't want to talk to anybody. Normal teenager stuff, eh? Well, through the weeks it has just gone downhill. The small thoughts of depression and hoplessness turned into lonliness, severe depression, and thoughts of suicide. I've become religiously confused, and it feels as if I'm done for, even though I know there are ways I can help myself.
In the past week, it has gotten so bad. I told my friend that I was depressed, and she said:
"I know how you feel. I recently told my mom I was having thoughts of depression and such, and she got my a therapist for it. I've been wanted to go to school with a gun and shoot everybody, I've been wanting to end my life, I just didn't know what to do."
We talked for a long time, and she ended up inviting me over. Well, yesterday I slept over at her house. She said that I could talk to her mom if I wanted, and everything was confedential. The problem was, she had so many cousins over, and other friends, not to mention I don't know her well enough to tell her everything. So my friend and I just talked, trying to make me feel better. It was late at night, around one o' clock. At about one thirty, we decided to go to bed. I wasn't feeling much better (depression isn't that easy), but I got into my sleeping bag with new thoughts. Well, ok...bed time right? Wrong. For the past five days I haven't been able to sleep well at all. And I told her that. She was going to drug me, but we decided that's not the best idea. So she just went to sleep and left me to fend for myself. I just lay awake, looking up at the ceilling for the longest time. And suddenly, I got a panic attack. I started to breathe shallowly, my body froze up, I got dizzy, and I felt like I was going to throw up. My friend could hear me, and she tiredly said, "Just take deep breathes." So I took deep breathes, and it calmed me down a little, but that wasn't the end of them. I ended up getting up and going into the kitchen. There was a light there, which was reasurring. I walked off the panic attack. I figured it would make me tired. I walked around the island in her kitchen more than three hundred times, and a whole hour. It was four o' clock by the time that was over.
I got back into my sleeping bag, another panic attack. This time I pulled the covers over my head and tried to breathe from there. When I calmed down some, I went back into the kitchen and started to count things. Twelve bottles of alchohol on top of the fridge, Twenty seven knives, and one pair of scizzors. Two hollow tiles in the floor. Three different pitches of machines. And four cats to be seen. Two were hiding and eight were outside. It turned out to pass another hour. Still wide awake and not the least bit tired. I went back into my sleeping back and tried to sleep yet again. This time I became frusterated and started to cry. Childish. But it felt good to get some emotions out. I lay down and looked up at the cielling. I closed my eyes, hummed to myself, all the sleeping tricks that normally works. Nothing. By this time it was five thirty, close to the time I wake up for school. I went upstairs, used the restroom, came back downstairs and pet the cats. At six o' clock, my friend's brother's girlfriend came into the house to pick him up for the Rennesaince Festival. She was surprised I was still up, but she understood. I sat on the couch until they left, yet again feeling lonely. Many small panic attacks struck me through the minutes. And around six, I just sat on my sleeping bag, waiting for the time somebody would wake up. I went into the kitchen to check the time, and went to a mindless mode sitting in that position for 45 minutes. The closest thing I could classify as sleep. And at 9:30, My friend woke up. I didn't say anything to her, I just said that I only got 45 minutes of sleep.
So you see what I had to go through? This has been a repeat of the last five days. Except it's the worst it's ever been. I've been hiding my tears all day from my parents. I talked to Hannah about it. And guess what? She told her mom? Now her mom might tell my mom, and everything would be ruined. I should tell her, I know that...but she would think she did something wrong. I need proffesional help, I can't handle this on my own. And apparently my friends can't either. Please...give me some advice.
-Maggie-
