Member-only story
You ever wake up trying to convince yourself reasons to live. After reason #2, you question if you’re crazy for having a difficult time finding reasons to WANT to be alive. You start to ask yourself questions like who will be most affected by my absence? My sister or my parents? Maybe my best friend? How long will it take my boyfriend to move on to an ugly whore? Yeah anyone after me is ugly and a whore.
You haven’t experienced depression if you haven’t felt emptiness beyond your control. Days would go by and I’d feel like I was floating… like that episode of Spongebob Squarepants when Squidward joins the community that looks just like him and he gets tired of doing the same thing every single day floating through motions. (Bonus points if you know what I’m talking about)
Depression has been lingering since high school when I lost my parents to this sucky immigration system. Lost in the sense of deportation. They were still alive but no longer in arm’s reach. I speak about this with ease but the older I get, the harder it becomes to wrap my mind around it. My sister and I were placed in a family friend’s home where nothing made sense. Freshman year of high school, I was plopped into a brand new system where I truly felt like an outsider because I didn’t act my skin color. I never thought I would get bullied for being in Honors courses. College came along and the…
