Personal Narrative: Diagnosed With Depression

"Why would you embarrass our family like that? You're making it seem as if we don't take care of you. There is absolutely no reason for you to be sad."
Memories that I’ve repeatedly try to shut out flood into my head. Intrusive thoughts that blame me, and only me, for my sadness and inability to “be happy and normal”. Obviously, my family was not at fault. They raised me and gave me everything I needed to be happy. However, I’ve come to learn that their definition of happiness is superficial. No amount of warmth or love could cure me.
Me. 14 years old. Diagnosed with depression and anxiety disorder. Unstable. Unwanted. Depression is a dance that I do not know the steps to. It brings me around, swinging and twirling me, but my shivering body does not want to dance. During late nights, it wakes me to waltz to the sounds of my own beating heart and ragged breathing. My shaky hands are not meant for this elegance. Anxiety does not dance with me. Anxiety is the shadow that follows me and watches my every step, yelling at me if it believes something I did was off. Its chalkboard screech frightens me. The constant stares gets to me, bringing immobilizing attacks. It makes a fool out of me. …show more content…
I remember one day exploding on my family, screaming at them about how they never seemed to care about my mental health. It was a mistake. I was ignored for days with them only speaking to me if needed. I was mad at mom, my dad, but especially at myself. During that time of silence, I thought to myself and finally, something clicked. I remembered I grew up independent, so there was no purpose in them guiding me. I know myself the best so I became my own best helper. I learned to cope, but I also learned that sometimes I needed outside