My "Perfect" Life

by J Love
(NJ, USA)

I'm a 15 year old girl who has what most people would consider the perfect life. I live in a big house with nice cars. Though I'm not particularly materialistic, I have a lot of pretty things; and, in essence, if I want any tangible thing I could have it. Sounds like a perfect life, right? Well, not so fast.
I have the types of parents that are demanding, and short-tempered. While, you may be thinking boo-hoo, this poor brat has temperamental parents, what does she has to complain about, I promise you there's more. They make my life hell.
My father is extremely short tempered, and aggressive. He tried helping me with a math problem once, and it didn't go well. I was confused about what he was saying and I kept asking him to explain more. Out of nowhere you rolled up his newspaper and threatened to hit me with it if I asked him again. I got scared but I just said, "But I don't get what you're saying." Big mistake.
He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me to my room. He closed the curtains to my room so no one outside could see what was happening... or hear my screams. Then he started kicking me and telling me to shut up. The more I screamed, "Stop it, STOP IT," the more he kicked and yelled. He told me I was worthless, ugly, and stupid. He said he wished I was an orphan and that he wanted me out of the house.
He left me alone for a while, to cry to myself, but came back into the room several times just to express his hate for me further. All the while, I was curled in a fetal position, crying and mentally breaking apart. I contemplated calling the hospital or police but was too scared. My father had warned me not to do because if I did it would break the family apart. So I just sat there and cried.
When my mom came home, my father told her I had been talking back to him. She took his side and when she walked into my room she just started blaming me for everything. She told me I was too stubborn and glared at me.
At that point, I seriously considered committing suicide. I stuffed my head into a pillow and was very close to blacking out. However, an image of friends and brother floated to my consciousness and I pulled away.
These kinds of confrontations occurred often and I was always, ALWAYS the one they blamed.
This coupled with going to a new school and losing several of my friends plunged me into a deep depression. I remember sleeping A LOT and barely eating. I would only focus on my school work and would not do or feel anything else. At school, I constantly smiled in an effort to seem like I was all right inside. My friends didn't notice anything different, if anything I appeared happier to them; but inside I felt nothing.
It was as if there was a snowstorm billowing in my heart. I was numb and I couldn't feel much of anything but pain. I distanced myself from my parents, not wanting to feel the excessive pain that our confrontations felt. I didn't trust them at all.
I felt empty and worn down. Sometimes I would look in the mirror and just burst out in tears. Of course, I'd never cry in front of anyone, "that" I thought, "would just be showing people you're weak."
Overtime my depression wore down a bit. But I was scared of ever becoming too happy anymore. If anything, I compared my depression to a cold pool. At first, when you climb into a cold pool it shocks you. You feel cold and foreign but eventually you get used to it. If you suddenly experience a good thing and become happy that equates to jumping into a warm pool, where you're body immediately warms up to it. Now say after you come down from your temporary happiness you're greeted with your depression again, this is like jumping back into the cold pool. It's better to have stayed depressed than it was to feel happy and go back to the sudden shock of being depressed again.
When I was depressed it was almost like the world was tinted with gray. As if every picture, memory, experience I had was faded and I couldn't experience it fully.
I wish I had gotten help during my depression and I hope this story helped you. I didn't get help because I was scared and didn't know who I could trust. I couldn't go to my parents because they were the root of my problems, I couldn't tell my friends because, well because it's highshcool and they'd only spread rumors. And I certainly couldn't go to my teachers or counselors. After all, I was the A student with the happy go-lucky life.
I wish I had. I overcame depression by myself but it was a long and lonely road.
Reach out for help.
Tell a loved one.
You can better and see the world in full spectrum again.
I know, I've gone through it.

And above everything else, know it's not your fault. I cannot tell you how many times I told myself to get over my own faults. I blamed it on myself, thought I was mental... But truth is it wasn't me. It was just all the stress, anxiety, and fear that pushed me towards it.
And most of all, don't be afraid to cry. Don't let your emotions bubble over one day and take it out on someone who doesn't deserve it. It may well lead to their own depression.
People cry not because they're too weak but because they've been strong for too long.
I leave you with that for thought. May you have a successful recovery.