While on our trip back home from my mom's friends house and watching an intense football game, I realized something. I knew I was depressed for four years, but I never knew my reason why. As my dad was driving my mom and me home, my parents other friends were driving next to us, making silly faces at us and surprisingly, my parents did the same thing back. The thing that I realized was that my mother was never funny around me. She was always dead serious and strict with rules and curfews, she never stuck her tongue out and put her hands on her head like a moose! Ever! But it was if her mask was taken off and she was showing her true inner self towards her friends, but she couldn't even do that to her own daughter.
There are many reasons of depression, mine is just so severe that I have to go to a psychologist to get treated mentally and not with pills. I had never known what my reason for depression was and it nagged at me whenever I did think about it...until now.
My Reasons For Depression (may seem stupid, but they are true):
1. My mother is never her real self around me
2. My mother dominates my life and the friends I may or may not have
3. She has never paid attention to me
4. It's pitiful that I have to be extremely sick to get her to care about me
5. My best friend died 1 year ago from cancer
6. Never had a TRUE boyfriend, due to dictating mother
7. Always lived in the shadows of my friends
8. Mother has never really showed that she loves me
You guys may be thinking, "Oh this girl is just some attention hog" or "She is being so dramatic" But I'm not. You have not worn the tattered shoes I have worn or taken the extra mile just to get more healthier. You have not lived the life I live to this very day. If I was an attention hog, I would not be in this dark depressing situation in the first place.
Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, even though I don't tell her or show her enough. I do. The only problem is, that she has never truly showed compassion towards me either. I get scorned basically for even the slightest thing and it basically got to my head and triggered that she just doesn't like how I am, which grew to that she just doesn't love me as her daughter.
I ran away in the late school year of 2008, due to a huge argument with my parents. I packed my belongings, waited for them to fall asleep and I left the house from the backyard, hopped over the fence and walked along the road with my bag and blanket in hand. In movies when a kid runs away, the parents goes concerned and worried and starts to pray for that child to come home, but the only way I came home was from a ride with a police officer. I was taken to a police office where they contacted my parents and they came to get me. It was 1 in the morning and it was Monday, on a school night. My mom's prius pulled up and the officer handed me over to them. They didn't hug me closely or tell me, "I'm so glad your safe!" They just looked at me as if I was a nagging fly buzzing around them annoyingly.
I felt no love come from their gazes. My mother's especially.
When I was 11 years old, I pretended that I fainted in the pool to see what my parents would do. They just sat there on the back patio, smoking cigarettes and talking to each other, not realizing that I could've passed out in the pool and drowned. Let me remind you, I was only pretending to see what my parents would do and when I saw they did nothing, I got the hint that they would not do anything if something like this truly did happen.
As I walked back up to my room, sulking and trying hard not to let this get to my head, I finally settled with the solution that my parents didn't care about me. Then at the age of 12, 1 year later, I ran away from home to realize that my theory was in fact correct. They did not hug, cry of joy, or anything. Their cold glares left me numb and heartbroken to find out that my own father and mother did not appreciate that I had been found.
Depression had possessed me at the age of 10, when I didn't know I had it. I finally diagnosed myself at the age of 12 and soon got a doctor's diagnosis this year when I went to the hospital due to pill overdose. It's hard to share this to world and admit that yes, I had tried to commit suicide, but finally after seeing what I had done, I figured that I had been selfish and a coward to try and take away my life over the people who had created me.
My mother does not show her true feelings towards me because she focuses on my future and not my happiness.
I could be ill with cancer and she would only sit by my hospital bed reading either a political book or watching Glenn Beck instead of telling me how much she loves me.
It's quite sad that when I went to the hospital on pill overdose and when I asked how she felt about me she said, "I'm disappointed in you"
The blackhole that was born in my heart at the age of 10, doubled in size that night and has continued to increase the more and more my mother and I fight. I understand she wants to protect me and be a mother she never had as a child, but she has not been a mother to me. It's as if she was a step-mother, controlling, demanding, and heartless.
When I saw her goofing off with her friends in the car, it made me wonder, "Why can't me and her get along like that?"
The same conclusion answered that question: She does not care to even try and be a good friend than a good mother. I want a mom who will laugh and joke with me and set me to be a good role model, but my mother dropped out of highschool, smoked at the age of 12, gave herself a tattoo and married a man 12 years older than her. I understand that she has been through alot in her young age, but by her bringing up those tragic memories, it makes me think if she just wants the sympathy she never got as a child.
I know that this journal is getting to be a chapter in a story, but this IS a chapter in a story. It's my story of my life and depression is a major topic in my life so far.
I have not thought about suicide since that night at that hospital, so do not refer me to a doctor or a psychiatrist you may know about. My appointment is in November and hopefully, I pray, that my mother will actually grow a heart and care about me...even if I had the slightest sniffle or the faintest cough. I hope she cares that much to go the extra mile just to show that she cares about me.
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