To those who may not know,
This is a letter. This is a letter to those who do not have
depression, or have not experienced it. This is a letter to those with
depression, those who are haunted by the dark. This is a letter to try to let
you understand what it is like to have depression. This is an attempt to let
you into the world of someone who constantly is at war with himself, just to
put a smile on his face. This is a letter to those who are in the middle of
this struggle. This is a letter for them to know that there are others in the
world. That there are those who have made it out of the darkness and on to a
happier path. This is just a letter.
I don’t remember the first time I cut myself, or even where
I got the idea. All I remember is that it brought relief. I don’t know how I
even ended up in that situation. After all I was raised in a good home, I had
great parents who loved me. I was always able to have friends. I think my ADHD
was maybe a trigger for my depression. I am pretty positive of that. Like I
said I had a good home life, but the older I got the less important the
acceptance of my parents meant. After all they are required to love you right?
The older I got the more I wanted acceptance from others. I did get that
acceptance but it wasn’t enough. I never did drugs but I think the urge to get
a greater high, was much like my urge to be more recognized. I desperately
wanted to be one of the cool kids. Don’t we all? I wanted to be well known for something.
I moved to Firth Idaho when I was 11 years old. I began seventh grade at a new
school with only a few friends that I knew from church. My first friend in
Firth continues to be my very best friend to this day. I had a pretty decent
time in middle school, sure I was picked on here and there but it was no big
deal. I can deal with teasing from other people. It’s the internal monsters
that give me problems. Anyways so middle school came and went and now I was on
to High school. I hated it. I don’t really know why either. I wasn’t picked on
by the upperclassmen. But I began to feel the self-doubt grow. You see I was
always good enough to make the sports teams, and I was smart enough to get
decent grades, and I was attractive enough to have a girl, but I was never the
best. I began to feel anger, I hated myself. So I decided to leave. I hated
that school anyways, I had made some new friends at Shelley (The rival of
Firth) so I figured I would just bounce to that school and it would solve
everything. Well it didn’t start off great. I began to hear the things people
would say, “Oh you won’t last there” or “you’re not good enough to make the team
there.” It was whatever though I didn’t care. Anyways I carried on, but
sometime during the summer my depression started to take over. I don’t know
what the cause of it was, I don’t know why it just started happening, but I
began to cut, and I began to have these feelings of doubt. The worst was when
it was dark. My nights became filled with thoughts of suicide. I had this
emptiness in my chest. It was like I was just sick of my own skin, and that
there was nothing that I could do right. But I carried on. I kept these
feelings mostly to myself and hid them so no one could see. I started the
school year off great. Man I was having a good time, football was great,
classes were great, girls were great. Except when the lights went off at night.
Finally basketball season was here. I made the team. I had done it. I had
proved to everyone at Firth that I could do it. We even beat them when they
played us. I even had a crucial play. It would have appeared that everything in
my life at that moment was great. Except when the lights went out. I was in a
downward spiral, I was in a never ending ocean of despair and I was sinking. I
remember one night I was feeling worse than usual, and an argument with a girl
put me into a headfirst dive into that ocean. I didn’t want to die, but I didn’t
know what else to do. So I told the person I was talking to that I was going to
kill myself, and that’s what I tried to do. I began to pop as many pills as I
could find. Luckily the cops were called and I was taken to the hospital.
That’s when my recovery started, but that’s not when I was
healed. I was in a behavioral health center for 4 days I think, I can’t
remember. I did anything that was asked of me so I could get out of that god
forsaken place. I am good at masking the pain. I got out and life resumed. It
was pretty normal, and I did get attention at school and I felt that people cared.
But the darkness was still there, and the feeling in my chest still existed. My
wrists still ached and I still was drowning. Then I decided that I didn’t care
what people thought anymore. I began to realize that this insatiable desire to
be popular and good at sports wasn’t really healthy. So I just decided to do
whatever the hell I wanted to. So I got arrested, then I partied, and did
anything and everything that I was told growing up that I shouldn’t do. I
remember that I really began to grow and change when I woke up one morning
after getting hammered drunk the night before and looking around and thinking..
Where will all these people be in 10 years? Is that something that I want?
That method worked for the most part. Soon after my
sophomore year was over I never cut myself again, I also quit taking my
anti-depressants. I figured that I could get through this. I don’t mean to make
this letter spiritual, but realizing that I was a son of God was huge for me.
What it meant for me was that I had potential. I had somewhere to go and
someone who wanted to help me get there.
Today I still struggle with depression. I still struggle with
a desire to be popular, or funny, or someone of importance. That is my
struggle, and there are many out there who have the same, and many who have
different struggles. I still deal with the darkness. It isn’t as bad now, but
there are times in my life when I am under extreme pressure that it starts to
creep back. Those thoughts still find their way into my life. But I can handle
them now. I can deal with it. As for the emptiness in my chest, well it is
mostly filled. I have a great life, I love my life. I have a great family, I
have great friends, and I have a purpose. I know too many people who have been
affected by teenage suicide. I feel that teenage depression and young adult
depression is an epidemic that is sweeping the nation, and not enough attention
is being placed upon it.
This is my letter. This is my letter to those who are fat,
who are gay, who are anorexic, who are clumsy, who are short, who are abused,
who have dyslexia, who have adhd, who feel alone, who feel ugly. This is my
letter to anyone out there who has ever felt less than they should. YOU ARE
SOMEONE SPECIAL! I don’t care if you believe in God or not. It doesn’t matter,
because you are still a Human being, you are still someone who has feelings and
desires. All I want for you to know, is that someone cares about your welfare.
I am that person. I don’t know you, or maybe I do. But I care, and as long as I
am living I will do everything that I can to make sure you feel loved some way
or another. We can take on the darkness together.
And to those who have had the luxury of never feeling
depressed, or never feeling sad. I want you to please use that gift that you
have. Make someone else’s life a little better. The most frustrating thing I
hear when people see someone who is depressed or cuts themselves is “well they
are just doing it for attention.” Well then give them some love and attention
and just maybe they won’t have to resort to such drastic and terrifying
measures.
My name is Dennis High, I have depression, and I have lived
in the darkness, and I have made it through, and it is my life goal to help as
many other people through as well.
