My Battle With Depression, By Ella P.

My Battle With Depression

By Ella P.

I guess it all started with what seemed like harmless teasing. I'd always been made fun of. "You're so weird."
"You're fat."
Seemed harmless, it never bothered me. Only recently did it change. A while back, I had a bit of a style change. I wore dark clothes, dark make up, ect. I was labeled emo, scene, and goth for what I looked like, and what I liked. I listened to metal and screamo type music. This is when the bullying got worse. Over text, over the internet, and even face to face.

"Worthless."
"Emo."
"Go kill yourself."
"Everyone hates you."
"Don't you have anything better to do than watch yourself bleed all day? Get some friends, emo whore."
"Gross."
"Fat."
"Ugly."

And much more. That's not quite the worst. People would push me, laugh at me, say things, text things, and message me things. There was even a point where a group of girls would follow me around everyday and harass me. I was so alone. I had no friends, and the "friends" I did have never wanted to be seen with me. I became extremely depressed, and began to hate myself.

I can never describe in words the depression, the emptiness, the loneliness I felt. I hated myself. I saw myself just as everyone said: Ugly, fat useless, alone, hated, unloved, unwanted, gross, disgrace, better off dead. The bullying died down slightly, but I still felt the same.

I became so depressed, felt so empty, and so worthless, I began to cut myself.
I started with cutting my arms, not so it would bleed, but so it would leave a scar. This became my addiction. My outlet.
As my depression continued, the self harm only got worse... I started cutting deeper, so it would bleed, using whatever objects were available. I would even cut during class when I couldn't take it anymore.
I would cut my stomach, my hips, my wrists; I was a mess.

Later I realized the thing that bothered me the most. I saw myself as fat.
Extremely fat...
So of course, in desperation, I stopped eating. I limited my calories to about 200 calories a day. Later realizing this wasn't working, after about a week, I started eating regularly again. I still felt fat. I still felt gross.

One day, my mom made me take of my jacket and saw some cuts on my wrist. I told her what I did...
She obviously was not happy. She made me see counseling, as I currently am.
This only helped for a short amount of time. I still felt alone, and just horrible. Angry, alone, depressed, scared, confused. I wanted to kill myself. Though I've never attempted, I've come close. So incredibly close, it's scary. I stopped cutting for about a month, but then started without my mom knowing. I would cut my stomach, and sometimes on my legs where she wouldn't see. I then found out I had been diagnosed with a disease called body dysmorphic disorder, which is a mental illness that affects less than one percent of the US population. It's a disease where I'm so obsessed with my imperfections, real or made up, I cannot function correctly, or focus at all. It's associated with social anxiety and depression.

I had such low self esteem, that's all I could focus on. All I did was compare myself to other girls, who I considered perfect. My grades began to drop, which my parents never knew why. Every time I looked in the mirror, all I did was think,
"You're too fat."
"You're so gross."
"You're disgusting."
I do have serious social anxiety. Being around crowds of people make me uncomfortable, and I start hyperventalating. I can't eat in front of people. I only wear skinny jeans, and jackets, hoodies, and guy shirts, because I feel too fat to wear anything else.

I feel like my parents don't accept me, especially when my mom tells me that I need to lose weight. I wish my mom was home more, but she often chooses to do things elsewhere. My sister hates me. She hurts me. Physically and verbally. They all think I'm goth...

People are constantly staring at me, looking at me like there's something wrong with me. Looking at me like I'm some kind of monster. All of my friends left me, and some harass me.

I had to fake a smile everyday. I refused to show people I was hurt. Over time, I've developed serious trust problems. It seemed as if every time
I let someone new in my life, they would leave. Leave with all my secrets.
I'm isolated, and always push people away. People call me a bully, but I'm just afraid.

What does this all have to do with God?

It was God that saved me from suicide. It was God, that though I have disagreements with some of the Christian "rules," he saved me from myself. He gave me a reason to live.

I'd be lying if I said I was better. I still hate myself, I still wish I could be someone else, I still wish I was dead... I still hate being alone, and I've come bitter towards the world... But I'm on the road to recovery. One day, I will get better. Thanks to God, thanks to the few people who support me.. It's been over 2 weeks since I last made a cut. <3

I made this, not with incredible detail, and left out some things for the purpose of my own privacy, but to explain what has happened to me. I've completely left this path that God had for me, for my own selfish reasons. Depression is no reason to abandon God, though it did feel at times he abandoned me. If that was the case, I'd be dead.

I would never kill myself.. Because I have reasons to live. I will live, and I will try to be strong. For God. And for myself.

Throughout this time, I feel as if I am not good enough for God. Like I don't deserve him. But over time, I know I'll see that His forgiveness is offered freely, constantly, and wholly, and I can never do anything to make Him love me more, or less. I used to only see-yes-I have probably over a hundred scars on my body, but the emotional scarring is what truly affected me. This entire situation has only made me stronger.
My name is Ella, and this is my story.
Stay strong. xoxo <3