I stared straight ahead at a girl with dark brown eyes too big for her face, with sallow skin and a busted lip. I was unrecognizable, even to myself. My eyes continued rooming down the length of the mirror, lingering upon my reflection. I looked like the lost, rag doll you keep in your attic, after realizing she's no longer full of life. My depression had altered me, for the worse. I knew I needed help, but I was too afraid to ask for it. I lived in an illusion, choosing not to acknowledge the elephant in the room.
I continued walking around like a lifeless zombie, smelling like one too probably. I didn't have the desire to do anything, sleep was my only comfort. I had been diagnosed with major depression and anxiety when I was 12 years old. I've dealt with the illness for four years now, but I never had the motivation to get better. I was so used to feeling down, that it became my comfortable state of being. However, it had never been this bad until this year. I could tell my parents were worried, but they never said anything, they already did everything they could to help me. You see, one must determine for themselves, when they are finally able and ready to accept the reality of things; no one can do it for you. No matter how supportive my parents and my therapists were, it …show more content…
For once in my life, I didn't feel so different and alone. There were other teenagers like me, who dealt with things I dealt with. I met the most amazing people, I got to hear their stories, and I even shared my own. During my time there I realized something very important; it is not weak to ask for guidance, It's not shameful to admit you're suffering, not the slightest bit, it is courageous. Human being's are often too scared to admit they're vulnerable, too afraid to admit they're hurting, but it shouldn't be that way. Admitting that you're lost and need help is the bravest thing someone can do. It is
I continued walking around like a lifeless zombie, smelling like one too probably. I didn't have the desire to do anything, sleep was my only comfort. I had been diagnosed with major depression and anxiety when I was 12 years old. I've dealt with the illness for four years now, but I never had the motivation to get better. I was so used to feeling down, that it became my comfortable state of being. However, it had never been this bad until this year. I could tell my parents were worried, but they never said anything, they already did everything they could to help me. You see, one must determine for themselves, when they are finally able and ready to accept the reality of things; no one can do it for you. No matter how supportive my parents and my therapists were, it …show more content…
For once in my life, I didn't feel so different and alone. There were other teenagers like me, who dealt with things I dealt with. I met the most amazing people, I got to hear their stories, and I even shared my own. During my time there I realized something very important; it is not weak to ask for guidance, It's not shameful to admit you're suffering, not the slightest bit, it is courageous. Human being's are often too scared to admit they're vulnerable, too afraid to admit they're hurting, but it shouldn't be that way. Admitting that you're lost and need help is the bravest thing someone can do. It is