12 years old, and already wanting to die. Not a great start. What’s funny, is I had your average upbringing in the middle class. White. Straight. Smart. Athletic. Super bright future right? So why as (not even a teenager yet) I was willing to die. I never planned living for the next year. I always thought I’d somehow someway die off. I didn’t really care how, just hoped for it. I was convinced I wasn’t normal, and I wasn’t supposed to live a normal life. I was always put down about how skinny I was, although I ate all the time. About how smart I was, I would purposely sit at my desk much longer so I wouldn’t be the first to turn in my paper work. I couldn’t even wear my socks normally. I had to turn them inside out because the small ball of stitching would drive me nuts. I remember my older brother watching American Pie with his older friend (pretty normal) but since I saw a woman without her top on, I stayed up all night until I cried at my parents bedside as if I had done the worst thing possible. Spending every year like you weren’t going to see the next doesn’t really prep you for a great life. Although, somehow, someway, I ended up owning my own small business (a gym) and finding a BEAUTIFUL woman that, at least I hope, wants to be with me forever. I’m in a small town sure, but I’m DOING it. I got the most motivated to kick life’s ass a year ago, but, I’m convinced it was basically because of my psychotic episode. I was loving life. Destroying all goals in my path. Then it hit the acute stage. I was admitted, I felt like I was crazy, and all because of a “marijuana induced psychosis”. So here I am now. Almost half a year out. Defeated. Hating life again. I just beg to enjoy the simple pleasures, I’m not money hungry, I just want to live. Depression has always stripped me of my goals. But I will always keep reiterating the one goal depression CANT take. I will not die by my own hands. Depression is not fatal (even though a lot of the time it feels heavier than death). It can’t FORCE me to kill myself. I will get the last laugh, someway somehow, something else has to take me out. Because fuck depression. Maybe this thread will find you, and give you even that smallest ounce of hope you need. We both know that’s all it takes. A little hope. We got this.