My Story Isn’t Over;

I can’t describe the feeling.

It was just a pain that has been there for the majority of my life. Most times I can fight it, but other times, I wish I didn’t. It’s overwhelming. It makes me feel like I have no control. It makes me feel defeated and in those moments, I normally am. I struggled with it more when I was younger than I do now. There were a lot of unfortunate circumstances that played a role in why it was so bad, and I couldn’t change them or the impacts they had on me. All I know is that I was depressed, and Depression almost won.

But it didn’t.

I tried on three separate occasions. Every time someone stopped me. The sadness was too much to handle and it was like no one could help me. Nothing anyone was saying was making the pain go away. I was feeling worthless and lonely. I haven’t experienced a deadlier combination. I just wanted so much from my life and the people in it and I just wasn’t getting it. Twice I was stopped by a friend, once, by my mom. The last time, when I was stopped by my mother I saw her face, how desperate she looked for answers and so I told myself that I would try harder to not get to that place again.

I succeeded.

I made every effort possible to not let myself get that low anymore. The thoughts were there, but I wouldn’t let them consume me. I was feeling a little better knowing that I would spare my mother that pain but at some point that stopped being enough. I felt myself sinking below my control line again and I was freaking out. It was when I had left home for school so I was by myself literally and emotionally. I would go to class (although that eventually stopped) and then I would go to my dorm and stay there for the rest of the day. All I would do is cry it seemed, because I didn’t know how to how to make myself feel better, and I didn’t think anyone would know either.

I figured it out.

My problem was that I was so concentrated on hurting my mom that I forgot that I was the one living my life. I had forgotten to live for me. It didn’t matter if I was living because someone else wanted me to. I would never have the desire to actually do anything that I wanted because I wasn’t living for me. I would only ever do what they wanted because they were the only reason I was even still here. It took a long time to come to the realization that it is okay to be motivated to become better for someone else, but, I cannot live for them. I must find the passion to live for myself or it won’t ever matter.

Once I started finding myself and things I wanted to live for, for myself I found myself becoming happier and the thoughts weren’t as bad. I was here because I wanted to be. I wanted to experience all of the things I had dreamed about at night. I wanted all of those things for myself because I knew that those things would ultimately make me happy. I wanted to live for me.

I cannot stress enough how important it is to realize this. When people seriously need help but cannot get the right help because no one is telling them this. They are living for all the wrong reasons. They fight for someone else and only that someone. If you were to take them out of the equation who knows what would happen to the person that depended their whole life on them being there. It is okay to help someone get through depression or a very difficult stage in their life but it is not okay to let them place whether or not they want to live in your hands.

They must want to live for them. Or none of it is truly going to matter.

For anyone who is struggling, even if it isn’t as severe as mine was, my advice would be to go home in a quiet place. Think about all the things you want for yourself and your life. Think about the things you want to live for, the moments that you want to see and the lives you want to change. Maybe even write them down. These are things you want to live for, the things that will change you from living for someone else, and living for you.

My story isn’t over yet because I am living for me.

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