I Was Made To Feel Guilty About My Depression

Someone once told me I was a piece of shit because I use my depression for sympathy. Those words were and are still painful. It made me second guess my depression, and maybe I’m not sick like others. I was told my complaining is about nothing. They’ve seen real struggle, and my issues were nothing compared.

I felt sick and considered not share my thoughts. Nothing is wrong with me, and my feelings are false. I’m not the definition of natural depression. That was said a year ago, and those words still sting.

I told my therapist if my depression were natural, I wouldn’t be afraid of cutting myself. If others are brave enough to do it, then so should I. I’m too scared to carry out a suicide.

It made me emotional. Sometimes I don’t think I’m depressed, I know I feel down, and some days are awful. But am I genuinely push. I’ve always formed friendships with men since I was a child. I wanted to be and act like the boys. I wouldn’t say I like the company of women. The severe downside, I don’t like women. I just never did since I was a child.

Do you know I never look into the mirror? I hold my head down. I shower and brush my teeth in the dark. At work, I stand at the side of the sink to avoid looking in the mirror. When I do Snapchat, I tap the icon and then take the photo.

I don’t look in the mirror to see my outfit. I walk past pictures at work and look at my reflection. I hate my dreads; I look terrible.

I’m fat; my bras can’t fit. I’m not as beautiful as my mother. I’ve seen younger photos, and she was lovely. Her skin glowed. I always told my inner self, I’m the ugly version. Maybe that’s my reason I hate women, and they’re much prettier than I am.

Here I am, pouring my heart out and judging myself along the way. When I got pregnant at 15, a nasty classmate said my daughter was going to be ugly.

When Tina was born, I looked her up and down. She was pretty, and I felt at ease. I gave birth and looked at my child to make sure she wasn’t ugly. That’s pathetic, but I was 16. I’ll hold on to my tears tonight

My illness is:

  • Clinical Depression
  • Anxiety
  • Impulsiveness
  • Borderline Personality Disorder

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