Life story, whats a life story. Is it how you've felt, is it events throughout life, is it what you've accomplished or is it just nothing. What if i'm just nothing. What if, there isnt a story. Maybe there wasn't meant to be one. Maybe there was. How do you know.

When I was 9 I already wanted to die, I knew pain far too well, in my journals I spilled my heart onto the pages, I begged and pleaded for god to take me, every night ended with a prayer
“ lf i should die before i wake i pray the lord my soul to take.” Depression followed me everywhere I went, I was trapped. When I was 11 I attempted suicide for the first time. I was hospitalized for 3 days, then later sent to forest view. I was so young, and so empty. The doctors would poke around at me, and ask me how this could have happened, of course I couldn't tell them. I couldn't tell anybody. I was 11 I was supposed to be out playing, or riding my bike, or hanging out with my friends but instead I was in a mental hospital. I should've been scared, but I wasn't I felt calm there, as if I belonged. The questions didn't stop, everyday it was how are you and everyday was the same response “Fine” 7 days later I left, I returned on a regular basis, up until I was 14. When i was 14, I again was in the hospital, but this time was different. None of my attempts succeeded except this one. For half a second, I was dead. I can't remember that much of that night, not then and not now. One minute I was shoving pills down my throat, and the next people were picking at me, tearing my clothes, I didn't know where I was, or how I had gotten there. Only later did I realize I was in the hospital and it was the doctors helping me undress, at the time I didn't know though, I had spasms, and was tied to a bed, I wasn't allowed to get up, I had wires hooked up everywhere on me. Although I don't remember the night that well, I do remember the noise, the beeping on the machines, the chaos in the room, the doctors running in and out, the moving of the wires from my skin, and the crying mom by my side. What happened next I don't know, one minute I was awake the next I wasn't. Nobody in my family talks about that night. They just like me pretend it didn't happen. I missed 2 weeks of school in pine rest after that, I had nightmares keeping me awake at night, I couldn't get those images out of my head. Nurses, patients, and doctors would check on me, I would yell and scream and throw things so they would leave. I felt crazy, and who knows maybe I was. Isn't everyone. When I got back to school, everyone knew, a close friend of mine made a page, and told a lot of people. Suddenly my business was out there to everyone, everything I tried so hard to hide was out, I wasn't just sunshine anymore, I was that depressed girl. Everywhere I went, people treated me different my friends, my teachers. They all felt sorry for me. I tried to put on a smile for everyone, I tried to convince everyone I was fine, I tried to convince myself I was fine. Even though, some days I was sad, and I cried a lot, and I didn't want to be a part of things, doesn't mean that everyday was like that. It doesn't mean that I never felt joy, Since I was a kid I've been dealing with depression, and nobody besides my family would have noticed, but when this got out it was all people could see in me, thats what people think when my name comes up, not the times i laughed, or the times i smiled, but all the times i didn't.

People think that by getting a look at someone that they know who they are; what if they were wrong. Theres more to me, to people than the past and that seems to be what people are interested in the most. The past. Im not broken just because im sad. I'm not helpless, just because some days i don't know what to do. Dont pity me, because theres nothing to pity.
I am not my depression.