Fighting Depression

My writing has always been personal, in the sense that whatever I write are my own examples and not someone else's (or Googled).
I have grown up as a lonely girl, with plugged in earplugs and listening 30STM or Breaking Benjamin. You see, the funny thing about truth is that when it wants to come out, it just comes without caring about the consequences. I do not care if you think I am a loner, because I am in a moment with truth; part of my loneliness was that I was not seeing the good around me, part of the reason was that I was enjoying it and thought I do not need any help whatsoever. It was as though Darkness and I have been friends, but isn't that the notion of every depressed teenager?

I have spent countless nights waking up and crying, and wishing I'd die. I have spent hours in bathroom, cutting myself and liking the way that the sharp razor coldly pierced in my skin, making that blood gush out like water, and I was chanting, "I am never going to be good enough for them." I have skipped my meals, and tried to sleep all the time, and end up sobbing in my pillow, saying life is so mean and unfair. Yes, I have been there and I have done that. And I have done many more things, that when the psychology students conducted the questionnaire test on me when I was 13, my conditions were suicidal and they advised that I see a therapist soon.
But you see the thing about pain and suffering is that when you start living it, you grow comfortable and start enjoying it, and consider yourself as an everyday martyr (that's what I considered myself). You start torchering your body because physical pain is sweeter and addictive than the internal agony, which would be like a constant tightening in your chest yet a hollow feel where your heart is and you'll feel asphyxiated. You know, it's sweet and all, but it is not for you. That place is not for YOU, and that place is definitely not a good one for a long stay.  

I am part of an online community, (not just one, and no, I am not talking about Facebook) and everyday I got through lots of anxious, bulimic and anorexic people who inflict self harm. I have personally known people who did that, and it was disheartening to see it, more because I did not know how to help them. And this all takes me back to the time when I did it because people laughed on me because I was 'skinny' or 'weird', or a 'bad, pathetic girl".

You know, one thing that all these years have taught me, after being mistreated and cyber bullied, that Depression is not a place to be in; it is not a haven so stop treating it like a sacred sanctuary. If you would trust me, I would tell how beautiful You are, how perfect Your body is, and how that twinkle in Your eyes is slowly diminishing because You are believing 'them'. And I would do that so many times and write so many similar notes, and articles on blog, and everything so You believe me, and importantly, believe in Yourself. I know people make fun of you when you tell them how you feel and call you names, and I know it hurts, but hey, they know nothing about You, so stop treating them like they do. Stop giving them the authority to make fun of You. Stop listening to them. Stop Yourself from falling into that humungous pit of frustration, anxiety and despair. Stop crying. Stop it, stop all of it. Sit back. Breathe in. Breathe out. Say, "I am everything I need to be. I am perfect and I couldn't have been better." Accept Yourself.  

Now, when next time you hear a person say, "I am in pain."
Tell them, "Stop enjoying it, and be happy instead."  

-a