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A Teen’s Description of Depression

Depression can be a horribly debilitating illness. I have been dealing with it for years, and this is a record of my experience. I hope it helps someone.

I am a teen boy, and I have depression. I am not sure what kind or what severity (though based on some of the nights I’ve gone through, I am going to assume that it’s pretty severe), as I haven’t seen a doctor about it. There are reasons for this, but I am not going to delve into them-that is not my purpose.

My purpose is simple-to give insight into the mindset, moods, and actions of a depressed teen. Depression varies widely from person to person, but I am sure that there are a lot of similarities from person to person. In fact, I have spoken with a number of other depressed individuals whose symptoms nearly match my own. Do don’t take this as a hard-and-fast list of symptoms-but do realize that this is a completely accurate depiction of my own experiences with depression as a teen.

I initially noticed that I was somehow different in my moods in the sixth grade. There were just too many times when I would be a little sad without reason, or I just wouldn’t want to be with friends or would be motivated to do my work. This was unusual, because I was a near-perfect student at that point. I still am, but it is much more difficult. At that point, however, it was nothing to be overly concerned with. I was just sad here and there. It was really no big deal. Right?

I went through middle school like this. At times, I would be a little more or a little less sad and a little more or a little less social. It went in waves, really. It didn’t vary too much, though, and it wasn’t too bad. I was a good student, I was ambitious, and I lived in a loving and supportive household. Life was looking good for me.

Things took a bad turn after my eighth grade year. During the summer, I was sad most of the time. Again, it wasn’t really serious depression. I would describe it more as general sadness, loneliness, and lack of motivation. I left my middle school with only one good friend, and we were both preparing for different high schools and had little time to spend with each other. It was a summer of video games and sadness. I worked with my dad a lot, but other than that I mostly just stayed home.

My freshman year was really a great year. I was in the band and I involved myself in theater, and I had a really good time. I made a lot of friends (a first for me) and I was too busy to really be all that sad. I still had at least a couple of days each week of feeling generally sad, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the summer had been. I put it out of my mind for the most part. The summer after freshman year was probably the happiest I have been in the last six years. I did summer conditioning for cross country. I’m generally not much of an athlete, but I run very well. I did a very good job. I was in excellent physical shape, I was busy, and I was busting with self confidence because of how hard the coach pushed the team and how well I did.

Then, at the end of the summer, after I had proved myself to be one of the better members of the team, I injured my leg, and I couldn’t run at all during the real season. That’s when things dropped. And they haven’t quit falling since. It first it wasn’t bad. I was just disappointed. I could still focus on what really mattered to me-my studies. I don’t know if there was a correlation or not, but my moods just kept getting worse. There was a slight improvement when I got a girlfriend, a slight drop when I left her, and another improvement when I got another. But things have still been following a downward trend. I am a junior right now, and the last year has followed a wave pattern of deep depression and mild depression and the occasional day or two of happiness.

The wave starts with me being happy for about two days. It is a happiness tainted by the knowledge that, because of chemicals in my brain that I can’t control, I will be feeling awful again very soon. Soon after that, I start to feel like a have a large, cold rock in my stomach and pressure in my chest. I lose motivation and feel extremely stressed and sad.

Soon after, if my depression progresses, I lose the ability to function properly in a group. When I am with people, I want to be anywhere else. When I try to talk, it is nearly impossible to hide the tremor in my voice as I choke back tears. If I am alone, I usually do cry at this point.

The next stage is the worst by far. Typically, though I don’t understand why, I get a burst of energy. I am extremely depressed, and usually an intense feeling of self loathing and worthlessness sets in, but I have a ton of energy. That is very bad when I feel that way. I have hurt myself a lot when I have been in this mindset. I can’t help myself-it is a physical need. I don’t know how else to describe it. I have cut myself on the arms, legs, and back with a utility knife. I have hit myself with several blunt objects, and at one time or another I have burned myself. I have been very close to attempting suicide on more occasions than I would like to admit to. I started exchanging emails with a relief organization online, and that helped me through some of the worst times, but it was still awful. Eventually, when I had hurt myself enough, the energy would fade. I would be bleeding, in pain, and consumed with utter self-loathing, but I would be exhausted. Sometimes I would fall asleep then and there, to wake up covered in dry blood and drenched in shame.

For some time after that, usually less than a week, I am mostly despondent. I am deeply, deeply depressed without the energy or motivation to do anything. I ignore or give very curt responses to my friends, and I go home and sleep or play video games. Eventually, I begin a slow process of recovery that leads back to a couple of days of happiness.

The cycle has been repeating for about a year and a half now. Sometimes it takes a long time, and sometime it is a very rapid procession. The whole thing has happened in a day, but sometimes it takes months.

Depression is an awful thing, and I hate it. I hate what I do to myself because of it, and I feel worthless and horribly ashamed of myself. I don’t know if this description will help anyone understand him/her self or a loved one any better, but I sincerely hope that it does. No one should have to deal with this, and from what I have heard from others, what I experience is mild in comparison to what many go through. There is help, and there are others who feel the same. Good luck.

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