I’ve been depressed since I was in the 9th grade. I opened up to one of my friends and my sister and they didn’t believe me saying “your not depressed!” So I kept my feelings to myself. But eventually things were getting to be too much and I asked my parents to take me to therapy. But my parents pulled me out of therapy bc “they couldn’t afford it” but I am almost positive that this was a lie they just didn’t see my mental health as as important. I know this bc they magically were able to pull out thousands of dollars to pay for my sisters therapy but just didn’t want to pay for mine. Then one day in about 11th grade, I was working up the courage to open up to my parents about my thoughts of suicide but then my parents and my sisters decided that day to talk about how committing suicide is selfish (my luck 🙄) and how they would be angry at anyone in the family that committed suicide. So you can imagine how deflated I felt in that moment. Last year, on my 18th birthday I moved out and decided to get therapy on my own, thinking to myself that now I can get better and get help. But my therapist wasn’t ever actually listening and asked me the same questions every session. 

So now, I don’t see the point in asking for help. Im just hoping at this point my depression doesn’t swallow me whole. 

That sounds so depressing, but I had to get it out somehow.

Im just convinced that a lot of people don’t actually care about how you are doing and that whole, “don’t be afraid to ask for help” thing is utter bullshit. People don’t actually help or actually care.