This topic is hard for me to talk about. Yet it comes up for me a lot.
I suffer from chronic depression and high anxiety. Yet I’m only 22, I’ve been suffering for over a decade. I know most people won’t believe me, when I say I thought about killing myself when I was eleven, or that from the time I was 8 I dreamed of running away. Not all the blame is due to my child hood, which I’ll go into at length. Some of it is genetic. At least two other people in my maternal family have been diagnosed with mental illnesses.
most might think I’m some spoiled middle-class kid, who doesn’t know how good she has it. I’ve been accused of that before. I’m not, My mother is a welfare bum, who refuses to get treatment for her own mental illnesses. She was a welfare bum when she decided to get pregnant with my older brother, and when she accidentally got knocked up with me. When I didn’t live with her, I lived with my father, and the kids he was raising (the eldest, my half sister, the other two my step sister and step brother), so I was living with 6 other people, on a mill-worker’s wage. When I was about 8 or 9 my stepmother OD’d, and that was basically the last I saw of my step siblings, who went to live with an uncle of theirs.
when I was seven my mother was diagnosed with cancer, for ever changing her. before that she cared a bit. now she hated me. Or at least she loved me less than she had before, and loved my brother and everything else more. In the following years as we all know, I began to think and loose the innocence of my youth. I began to puzzle things out, to realize the world isn’t perfect. During this time my mother was starting her emotional abuse, if she hadn’t always been abusive. She and all my family set the stage for my mental illness that I deal with today, because I was such a serious person. I was told not to cry, that it’s bad to cry. I cannot let myself cry any more. I was told that the only reason my mom kept me was for the money. I was made to fear welfare, as “I would never see my family again” if they took me away.
then when I was 10 another abuse started, though both my depression and anxiety had already developed. I was now getting sexually abused by my father, while I slept. I won’t go into details, as I’m not ready to delve into that yet, but it made things worse. I didn’t even really know what was happening, because I was so young, I wanted to dismiss it all as a dream (and did so for years). When I was 11 we moved in with him. when I was 12 he was arrested for abusing my stepsister years before. we were even worse off then we had been before we moved in with my father (we could no longer live with him). we had moved from where my mother’s family lived, to a small village. We now lived out of town, with no way to go anywhere (or at least, my brother and I couldn’t. My father could still drive my mom around), as my mother had never bothered to get her license. so from gr.7-10 I lived in two places, school and home. no escape, except to visit family on holidays, if possible. nor was school all that good, though I much prefered it to the mother who told me to stop bitching about the bullying I was experiencing. In gr.10 we moved even further away from town, thankfully my mother could now drive me to important things.
sad thing is. she didn’t consider me important, and had to be ordered by welfare to take me to the dentist, refused to take me to the doctors for asthma meds, or to the optometrist for new (FREE) glasses. She also preferred to feed the animals before feeding me, and now that my brother was gone, made my life a living hell (thank god my father had given me his computer before he went to jail, else I would not be here today.)
so two years after moving out, and in with my grandma and brother, a year and a half of sleeping on the couch, combined with a visit from my mother dearest saw me have a mental break down, though no one knew about it. I almost lost my job, ’cause I couldn’t function well enough to do my job properly, and I ended up getting help through my government’s free mental health care.
EDIT: If you read my newest post (04/07/2013, If You Think Something Is Wrong Tell Them) you will find out that my grandma knew I was suffering and did nothing positive to help me (emotionally)