My depression really started when my dad got sick with cancer. He was the light of my life, he was my hero. He was so intelligent and strong and could do anything. He was a sensitive man with a sense of obligation to those around him. He passed away when I was 18 and I rushed into a marriage so he could see me walk down the aisle before he passed away. Two months after he gave me away he passed away. It felt like everyone was telling me how I needed to step up to the plate and be strong for my mom, so I did not grieve properly. About 7 months after his death I went a little psycho. I stopped sleeping for a week and spent all my time reading the bible and making plans to "help" people. I was completely out of my mind. I think I must have started talking to people that were not there, but I blocked it out since it was such a shameful experience. Slowly I ost contact with most of my friends and becamse isolated into a bad marriage. We moved away to try to make things better and they improved some but I still stayed isolated for many years. My youth was wasted away in isolation. I had no friends or family where I was, and so when I decided to leave him his resistence was violent. I tried three times to leave and was determined on the third try. I moved home to fall in love with a guy that seemed to have more issues then me, and it was nice having the attention on his problems instead of mine. Eventually his drama exhausted me and I wanted out of the relatioship, but was scared to be on my own for the first time. Finally I did break free from him only to end up back into another relationship with a man that was married (but leaving her). We were very happy together, it would seem that I had found my true love. A year later we suffered through some tough times because he was starting to see the dark side of me, so we broke up. A few weeks later he was back with his wife. He was the only thing that has made my life seem normal since dad passed away. My dad abused my brother when I was little, it was a very violent household. My brother had a different father and my sister had a different mother so it was a house devided. When I was a sophomore in highschool my best friends moved away, and just recently one of my good friends and I stopped talking because she just finally got fed up with me. It is hard to be on facebook and see her happy pictures with our mutual friends, knowing I would have been invited if we still spoke. Most people think I am lucky and creative and intelligent and they think I am weak. A crybaby. They don't take me seriously, I'm not sure my mental illness has ever been taken seriously.
If life could be another way, I'm not sure how I would want it. I guess I just want to be a better person. I want to get over this and really help others and have friends and enjoy the years that I have left. Life is too short to waste. I'm so afraid that's exactly what I'm going to do.