Depression, Begone!

In my last post, I mentioned “possible depression”. I don’t know if I genuinely have depression because I don’t have a diagnosis for it (nor do I know how to get one). However, I feel like I’ve had depression since I was 12, maybe a bit earlier since the very first time I said I would hurt myself, I was 10 (I said I would stab myself with a knife).

I used to occasionally look up the symptoms of depression to see if I fit any and sometimes I would, but it didn’t seem to last as long as they were supposed to. If not that, it would be the symptoms seemed to match something else. For example, “social withdrawal” seemed to match my shyness. I eventually stopped that and concluded I didn’t have it. Plus, I suppose a 15-year-old trying to diagnose herself wouldn’t be wise.

Yet, I still feel I could have clinical depression. What keeps me from being certain is I only have the feelings at home. At school or around my friends, they’re practically non-existent, but at home, they’re all but physically visible. Naturally, since my family doesn’t believe in mental illnesses (except retardation, which they consider shameful), I have no help from them.

My wish for this Wednesday isn’t that I knew whether or not I was depressed. It’s that I didn’t have depression at all or that I had nothing to make me believe I do.

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