[quote=@Apokalipse]
Hey, I'm sorry you have to go through this. Depression is probably the worst. Well, i don't know what to call it, it's a lot more than a feeling.


[hider=long]In my RP (that I'm so glad you joined) my character Aella has a past of an alcoholic mother and a lot of Aella is based on my past. When I was little, my mother drank heavily, swallowed a bunch of pills one night, and had to get her stomach pumped and go to rehab in Scotland for a month. Around the same time, my seventeen year old sister was thrown out of the house, breaking in at night, partying, smoking, sexing it up and all of that. And she dropped out of school and moved to America. (My dad's in the military so we were in Germany)

Fast forward to my seventh grade year, I moved back from Germany and came to The South. And I hated it. I had decided to go to a private Christian school since my neighbor was going there and I wanted to know someone. There, I was bullied. People called me a nazi because I lived in Germany and hitler. While kids joke a lot about WWII and stuff, it wasn't just a joke to me. I had visited concentration camps, I had seen pictures of what the nazis did to the Jewish. A lot of times I would come home crying and one time, I almost started crying during class, so I went to the bathroom and an older student found be crying in there and told a teacher. The teacher came and half-heartedly comforted me, but didn't do much after that and she frankly didn't seem to care. So I checked out. Another thing I was bullied for was my jacket. Every day, hot or cold, I wore a black hoodie that had felt sewed to it to make it look like a dinosaur and it said rawr on the back. The kids would shout rawr at my back every time I stood up, every where I went. It may have seen like a little thing, but it was big to me because it was given to me by my best friend from Germany who now lives in Tennessee. And that year, over Christmas break, we had gotten into a flip over accident while I was visiting her. I had to get my head stapled together and to this day I can't sleep while I'm in a car because I was sleeping when it happened. After seeing therapy, we determined I had clinical depression and the bullying just helped it become noticeable. So I left private school and went to a public school.

However, my mom had started drinking again. And I had fallen deep into a depression even when I was on my medicine. Freshman year, for no reason at all, I had felt like there was no point to living since the world sucked, so I wrote a suicide letter and tried to cut myself. I told my parents out of anger and they called the cops on me. Ten minutes later, I was smiling and laughing as I played with my dog. Turns out im resistant to medicine and had to be put on a mood stabilizer as well as my anti-depressant. 

Skip to sophomore year, my mom's alcohosim was at its prime. She had quit her job and she was never sober. I would yell at her, pour her beer down the drain, call her a bitch, I even dented the trash can once, but she didn't try to get help. My dad was what they call an "enabler," he allowed her to continue to drink, he would buy her beer and indulge her habits, because he was afraid that if she ran out of beer, she would climb into her car drunk and kill someone. 

Well, one day in the fall, it was near Halloween, I believe, I came home from school. I walk home, since my school isn't far away, and I checked on my mom, and she was asleep per usual in her bed, and I turned on the TV and watched family guy. An hour or so later, I start hearing crying and so I get up and I see my mom crying on her bed, sobbing, drinking a beer. She had attempted to call places to get into rehab, but they were filled, and she was super drunk. Well, she must have hung up on one of the rehab secretaries or something, because she called back and I answered. I told her the situation and how it was just me and I needed to hang up to get ahold of my dad. So, I did, and I tried to call my dad several times, but he wouldn't pick up. The lady called several more times, I picked up every time, and she tried to calm my mom down. I didn't know what to do, so I called my sister who lived two states away. She didn't know what to do and so she tried to call my dad. Well, then the door bell rings and I go and answer it. The lady on the phone had called the cops. They came in, they tried to calm my mom down, and basically told me they could do jack shit. And they stayed there until my dad called back, having left his phone accidentally in the car, and then they left. Once he got home, he whisked my mom away to the hospital to get her vitals checked in order to submit her to rehab. Well, the next day, I wake up and go and watch TV, completely numb inside and pretending nothing happened when my dad just then got home. He came in and told me that my mom had drank 4x over the legal limit. The doctors didn't think she would survive. Lucky for me, she did and went to rehab. And came out in February, sober.


Fast forward to junior year. Ever since I was little, I had been overweight. Obese. Whatever. And I never knew why. I never knew why it had to be me that got rejected by boys because I had dimples on my thighs rather than my cheeks. I did whatever I could: I exercised, I went to fat camp, I starved myself, I tried to make myself throw up, I dieted hardcore and I never lost weight. Gained weight actually. And when I was a junior, I found out that I have PCOS. Rather, poly cystic ovary syndrome. Basically, there are cysts on my ovaries that fuck me up. I only have my period three times a year, it will be hard for me to get pregnant when I'm older, and i gain an obscene amount of weight because my body creates too much sugar. I can't have more than 12 grams of sugar a day. Also, it's a precursor to diabetes!! Yay.

Now, I'm not just telling you this to tell you my whole sob story. I'm just saying, I've had so many reasons to kill myself. So many, and so many times I've thought about it, I really have. But at the end of the day, one thought goes through my head that stops me: what would happen to my dog?

It seems silly and stupid. It really does, but you just need to have one reason to live to stop yourself. Whether it be your dog missing you, or your friends, or whatever. If you can't find one, get a fucking dog. It legitimately works. If I died, who would cuddle with my dog at night? Who would feed my rats and poke my gerbils tummies and accidentally scare my hamster? 

I'm sorry this happened to you and you've had to feel this way, but I hope you find a reason to live like I have<3 I'm always here[/hider]
[/quote]

I'm sorry for not responding sooner, I missed your post :/ 

I feel like depression just consumes pretty much everything, and people who haven't experianced it don't really understand it. My ex would always rant and rave about how she had depression and managed to pull herslef out of it, and how weak I was just because I couldn't, and that there was nothing else anyone could do for me and how I was ruining our relationship by not getting better. I feel like people have sympathy for those suffering, but it runs out very quickly. 

That all sounds so terrible, it breaks my heart that you had to endure that :/ my parents are like my rock, I don't know what I'd do if there was ever a situation where they were in such a vulnerable state. I remeber when we couldn't afford to send my sisters to private school and my Mum just broke down crying and it was such a weird and human side of her that'd I never really seen before. 

Some boys are right shallow arseholes, but I think shitty people will always just be shitty people. Please don't feel like you need to change your body to make others happy. I know it easy for me to sit here and preach about inner beauty blah blah blah, but I really do believe that sexy is something which we find in ourselves, and not in the eyes of others. My ex was a bigger girl, but she was alot smaller than she used to be. I'd look back at old photos of her, when she was bigger, and she just looked so much happier. There was this awesome, giggly side to her that I loved, and still do love, but then there was this awful cold side which I think had been forced onto her, and when I saw the old photos of her she just looked so much more like that awesome giggly person I'd fallen in love with. I guess what I'm trying to say, in my odd manner, is that there are plenty of guys out there who prefer bigger women, or who aren't so blinded by preconceived notions of attractiveness that they can't see the true beauty in someone. I'd like to think I fall somwhere between the two. 

Thank you for your kind support, your words have reachly resignated with me <3 I'm here if you need me too, and I look forwards to RPing with you in the near-future! :D