This isn't as much as a story...

      Recently I've been fighting depression more than ever. If someone were to look at me, they'd believe I'm doing better. I've gained some weight, my scars are fading, and I seem more out going and people friendly. However, I feel like this is the lowest I've ever been. I have no emotion. I look happy and I laugh a lot, but it's as if I've never experienced happy. My eyes are dead, they are always sagging. I've been constantly yelled at, though everyone in my house knows of my depression. I would say I feel like Cinderella, but I honestly believe that I lack the beauty and generosity. 

      This isn't as much as a story, but a cry for help. I would absolutely be thrilled to have friends I can actually use words to talk to vent. I know this has been really depressing, and seems like a cry of help for me, but I'm hoping it will turn to you. 

Here's the story, I've been battling depression for four years. I've been bullied mercilessly, which turned me into my own bully. I battled self harm. I dug into my skin time after time with a safety pin until the blood was on it instead of one swift move with a razor. I've had family problems, more than any visitor would care to guess. My grandmother's dementia became obvious when she tried to kill my mom. My dad's lungs almost collapsed while he was working, he also almost died within the same month. I found my voice through music and writing and art. There are so many bands that I can thank for being here today. Allstar Weekend, Hollywood Ending, Before You Exit, and Paradise Fears being of the upmost importance.
 

      Now, here's how it's your cry. Even though I am still depressed, I'm not physically hurting anymore. I don't have to hide wrists or room or legs or stomach or arms or anything. I won't have to worry about my mom beating the crap out of me for finding something she won't have to. I am actually laughing again. I'm still having trouble eating. I'm 102 pounds. I honestly see myself as fat because that's what society is, but I actually AM eating now. The point of this isn't to say things are going to be 100% perfect. I'll be battling this for a long time as far as I can tell. I know I'm not going to marry Dan, the ginger guitarist in Hollywood Ending. But I might have a chance to at least become somewhat of a friend. There are still chances, even if they're not the ones you're looking for. It might just be because depression has made me more determined than ever, but with time things get better, just not perfect. Ever time you fall, it's a little shorter. A little bright. Be brave, stay strong.