(TW: Depression and Suicide) As many of you have probably heard, it was made known somewhat recently that Ronnie "Oni" Edwards, the lead editor of Game Theory and Film Theory ended his life at the first part of July. I only just recently watched MatPat's video about it and I wanted to give my voice on the serious issues of depression and suicide. Depression isn't merely "having a bad day". It's feeling like nobody cares. Like everyone else has it all put together while you're alone, trying to put a puzzle together while you're missing the most important pieces. It's waking up, thinking "what'll go wrong today?". It's feeling like if you disappeared, no one would notice. It's thinking that you're worthless, and that you're invisible. How do I know all this? you might be asking. I've been fighting this battle for several years. When I was in 5th grade, my best friend at the time, who had been my best friend since preschool, abandoned me because I didn't want to play the game he wanted to play at recess that day. He wanted to play superheroes, and that day, and for almost the rest of that school year, I actually felt like I was given a superpower that I didn't want: invisibility. He wouldn't even talk to me when we had lunch. Luckily, I had some other friends, so it didn't spiral too far. But that was before my family moved.
My family has seven people, including me, and we didn't have enough bedrooms in our last house, plus the elementary school that my younger sister and I went to was getting too crowded, so my parents decided that we should move to a bigger house and go to a new school. We didn't move too far, but the new school had none of my friends that I had grown up with. I felt alone, and scared. Thankfully, I made friends quite easily at the new school and things went fairly smoothly from then all the way through middle school. I still had some lingering distress from losing my old best friend, and got some more distress due to a bit of bullying and teachers that weren't exactly the kindest, but it was manageable. Then I started highschool. Hoo boy, whoever said that "highschool is the best years of your life" is dead wrong, at least in my case. I maintained friendships, sure, and developed more, but I kept feeling somewhat alone, like an immigrant. During my junior year of high school especially, I felt alone and just... different. It was then that I started disassociating, started to try and discover myself, and most of all, started to slowly spiral into serious depression. I wouldn't care about what people thought of me at school, and I don't remember much, although I've been told that after the lunch period ended, I would run from the library to my next class, which was outside of the main campus. I remember once feeling like I just needed that feeling of escape from the normal because I wasn't "normal" and I couldn't figure out what was different. Not long before I took my ACT test during my junior year, my older brother came home early from a religious trip he was taking because he had been going through some depression and anxiety. He was welcomed home and helped, and the whole time, I kept spiralling further down into the pit of my own depression. I hid it so that my parents wouldn't have two kids to worry about, but as I'm writing this, I wish I hadn't so that I could've started to get help sooner. After about a month and a half of feeling neglected and less loved, I felt completely invisible. I felt like all my friends were just being nice to me because they wanted something from me, and like my family was just there. I had been having a lot more trouble sleeping at night than usual since my brother had come back his trip so I had been getting sleeping pills from my mom for a while, but I hadn't been taking them. I had been putting them in a Ziploc bag, which I hid on a shelf behind my pillow. My plan was to save them up until I had 50, then I would take them all one night, because I felt like nobody would miss me. Now, to compress what happened over the next several years, because this post is getting awfully long, my mom found out that I was hiding the pills, and she took them away, keeping me alive to write this post and live out my life up to this point. I ended up graduating from highschool and starting college, and I also started to see a therapist, who I still see somewhat regularly. One more specific thing that happened that I want to address is that at one point during college, my stress levels spiked, and I almost ran away from home because I just wanted to get very far away from everything and just start a new life somewhere else. I got a lot of support from family members and friends, especially my best friend, and that made things bearable. There's been a lot of pitfalls and issues along the way, but I've been supported along the way. Now, I want to cut to earlier this year, back in February. My best friend had told me in the past that he had been dealing with depression and had been taking antidepressants for it and he seemed to be doing fine. In early February, however, my best friend had told me that he had been hiding something from me. He, in essence, told me that he was bisexual. (I had told him in the past that I was asexual, in case you're wondering) Now, with me being his best friend for what would have been 9 years today, I was very open-minded and told him that he was still my best friend and that would never change. Later that month, I get home and my mom asks me if I have any idea where my best friend is. I tell her that I hadn't, and we find out that he went missing. I had read a book in middle school about a girl whose best friend went missing, and I felt how the character felt. Worried to the point of feeling sick, confused, and most of all, scared. To summarise the next events, mostly because those days have all blurred together, I spoke with the police, search parties started looking for him, and his body was found in early March. I spoke on the news about him, and the funeral was difficult, but my life had to continue on. I still haven't learnt what he died from, and it's still hard for me to accept his death, but thanks to my tight-knit community and support from my family and my therapist, I've been making my way through this hard time. It's still hard for me to do many of the things I enjoy because of my depression, however. I sometimes still have trouble sleeping, knowing that I won't see him again in this life, and sometimes all I want to do is curl up into a ball of emotions and cry, but I also know that there's hope. When you're depressed, sometimes the hardest thing to do is hope. Hope for a better day, hope that life will get better, hope that someone will notice you, or just hope that you can hide the pain well enough that nobody will think you're weak. But listen to me, if you're depressed. You might feel alone and invisible, but trust me. You're not alone. You're not invisible. You are cared about. You are appreciated. You are valuable. If you're not depressed, but you know someone who is (and really, who doesn't know someone who's depressed), take time to remind them how much they mean to you. I know it's hard. Depression is a monster. I'm still fighting it myself. It's an ongoing struggle. If you're depressed, you're probably sick and tired of hearing "Just be happy" or "But look how great your life is" or maybe even "Oh, things aren't that bad". For those of you who aren't dealing with depression, hearing you say those feels like a punch to the gut. So please don't say them. Those of you who are dealing with depression, I have something else to say. They say life will get better, but there's one thing that is always not said. Life will get better, but it takes work on your part. Asking for help is not weak. It takes a lot of courage to admit you need help. I still struggle with asking for help sometimes, but it's gotten easier as I've been doing it when I need it. There are so many people who would be willing to help you. Parents, grandparents, other family members, teachers, therapists, school psychologists, doctors, ecclesiastical leaders, friends, even me! There's so many people who want to help you. Just ask for help if you need it. There's so many places you can get help. You can text the crisis hotline, or call the suicide hotline or if you're a teen and just need to talk with someone, you can text the Teen Line. I've placed the numbers for these hotlines down below. Just talk with someone if you need help. I'd even be willing to talk with you on Discord, if you feel comfortable talking with me. I don't judge. I know depression makes life hard. I really do. But I know that things can get better. All it takes, is the courage to ask for help. You can get through this. We can get through this. I'm hoping I can be right there with you, every step of the way. Your ally, Kyta Resources: Crisis Hotline: text HOME to 741741 Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 Teen Line: text "teen" to 839863 My Discord: KytaFreesky#4955
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AuthorI am KytaFreesky. Archives
February 2018
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