I’ve been depressed for about three years, according to my therapist. I never really thought much of it until after my second hospitalization. I hate to sound whiny and like a total stereotype, so I never tell anybody, even my therapist and psychiatrist, how I feel. I started to hurt myself shortly after I got depressed. In January, it will officially be 3 years of agony. About a year ago, I started to evolve from simple self harm to something much more severe. I began to cut deeper and deeper into my flesh. When I made a cut that should have gotten 6 stitches (if I had told someone sooner), I was admitted as an out-patient at a mental hospital for 4 weeks. Throughout the whole experience, I never really took anything seriously, so I never “got better”. I ended up relapsing after only a week back at home and in school. I made an even worse cut, and was sent back in as an in-patient for about 5 days. I wish I could say that I got better after that, but I didn’t. I’ve been slowly getting more and more sad over the past 6 months I’ve been out, and I’m going to kill myself. I wish I could tell someone, but I’m too intent on carrying it out
