Depression. It tears your soul, and your mind, even your body apart. It’s the silent killer. It’s the Rodney Alcala of mental illness.
   

Depression almost ruined my life, hell it almost ended it more than once. I’ve always been just kind of sad. Not so sad that I can’t function or so sad that I cry. But in my 7th grade year it hit me, and again in my freshman year but harder.
   

When I was in 7th grade I experienced hating myself, and being unbelievably lost. I wandered into the deepest and darkest parts of my mind. I was all alone, maybe not physically but most certainly mentally.
   

My 9th grade year was even worse. I went in with not really having friends. Then when I finally made good friends I left. I was so unhappy with myself that I couldn’t be happy with them. My depression had taken control. It had taken control of my thoughts. It made me believe that everyone not necessarily hated me, but that no one wanted me. It took control of my words. It stopped me from making jokes, it stopped me from talking to my best friends. It had taken control of me physically. For the first time in my life I experienced and understood why people had cut themselves. Depression had taken control of my life.
   

The first time depression almost took my life for good was about a month before my freshman year started. The whole summer I had spent alienating myself. So saying goodbye seemed easier than pretending that I was okay. The second times was in April. After I had lost all my friends to depression. This time I didn’t just heavily consider it. I tried it.   
   

Depression never really leaves. Even today I feel it inside me. I feel myself starting to slip away. I feel the sadness and the emptiness slowly flowing in. It takes every ounce of me to fight it. Too not let it in. I force the laughter to erupt from my mouth cause fake it till you make it right? I force the happy memories to replay, telling myself over and over that I was, that I am wanted. Hoping and praying that my contaminated thoughts won’t find their way into my oh so precious memories.
   

So, what do I believe in? I believe in myself. I mean who else is going to save me? My mom? My dad? My friends? How could they? My smile is the ski mask protecting my torturer. There is only me to dig out of this hole of darkness. Only me. Only I can push myself through this journey. Only I can save myself.