I am going through an extremely tough battle with depression, a little backstory. less than a year ago I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, I am 16, fit, handsome and smart, that's at least what my family tells me. When I was first diagnosed, I was doing terrible, 8+ panic attacks a day that would last up to two hours. but then I got put on Lexapro, it didn't work so I started experimenting with weed and alcohol. This is where I royally fucked up, after I got caught for the 5th time with weed and booze trying to self-medicate, I was pulled out of school and started doing online school, got put on a new medication (Desvenlafaxine) commercially known as Pristiq. It was working, I had a few mess ups but I was feeling good, started working out and even started talking to this girl. But the thing is, me and my family are moving across the country in four weeks, and it's been a huge stress, so I decided to buy four carts, this is the worst decision I have made in a very long time, it was about two days ago, and I couldn't shake the feeling of dread and how badly I messed up so I told my parents everything, how i started smoking again and even gave them the carts, and here I am now, about to talk to my psychiatrist about what the next step is and how I can recover. even if I'm safe, in a good place, and have something to do at least, I can't stop thinking about the worst, and I can't shake this feeling of dread and remorse.