I am a 19 year old British male. For as long as I can remember I always hated life, I focused on the negatives and ignored the positives, not through choice, it was all my brain could do. 2 years ago I found out this is due to depression, I was born with it, most likely from my mother's side of the family. What caused it to be diagnosed? Bullying in Sixth Form. I was bullied badly and to an extent, yes I did bring it on myself, but did I deserve all of it? No. There were rumours made up and spread about me, at the time I was also learning how to cope with my short temper, I lashed out, I didn't know who was doing it but I knew it was people from a certain social group I thought I was a part of. This resulted in me recieving death threats on a weekly basis for a few months, losing a lot of friends and finding even more rumours spread about me. By this point I had maybe 3 friends left, 1 suicide attempt and about 30% school attendance rate.
After this I was put into counselling, it was great to talk to someone outside of everything else, and while I knew both my counsellors were being paid to listen and help I still felt like they actually cared. My few remaining friends and (some) of my family stood by me and helped me recover, and while I know I will have depression and the social anxiety that comes with it for the rest of my life I feel I can cope. I can even say I got here without taking an medication!
Or that should be, I felt I could cope. It's now 1 year on from the end of Sixth Form. I finished 2 of the 5 courses I started having dropped one and been kicked off 2 as the school management did not believe depression is a real mental issue and said I was making excuses to not turn up. But I still finished, I was so proud of this, going to the place I hated to study subjects I no longer cared about just so I could say "Fuck you, you can't stop me!" to the pupils and staff that made my life such a torment for two years. I was so happy on results day, a D and an E, I may have been predicted 4 Cs but I was still proud. But not now, a year on it feels like such a waste. A year of sitting in my bedroom at my parents house looking for work, not even being given a single interview. Hardly ever even hearing from the companies I applied to, is it so hard to tell me I haven't made the fucking shortlist? I daren't go to JCP, our local one, the one my friend's went to, sounds like such a hellhole I think I'd have a panic attack within 5 minutes of the meeting, and I've heard about what's happened to people having panic attacks in JCPs. My parents still give me pocket money, I'm lucky in that respect, my father earns enough to keep me at home, gives me a bit of spending money, pays for the costs of my dog whom I got a year ago and right now is the only thing keeping me alive. I feel so useless. I've been told so many different reasons why I can't work for different people; "You're too tall you'll intimidate customers" (I'm 6'8") "We don't do uniforms your size, bad luck" "We don't want someone with depression bringing the mood down" "You've not got any experience" (When they've not specified experience required on the ad) and other reasons I'm sure you've heard before. I feel like I can't take it any more, I feel useless. I'm not going to kill myself because I know I can beat this, but I've been having those involuntary thoughts that those of us with depression know far too well. "If I just stepped off the path now, it would all be over, no more worries." But I can't, my dog needs me, she doesn't trust any one else properly, my dying friend needs me, I like to think all my friends need me. Although I've not gone to see anyone since Wednesday, told everyone I was ill, and I guess I am. I don't know what to do. Parents can only keep me so long and I won't go to JCP and get treated like dirt.
I don't know why I'm typing this, I just needed to get it out of my head I guess.
~Rusty.
