Well, I'm not sure how this works, so I'm just going to go for it and vent.

I've been depressed on and off for a few weeks at a time for the past four years. I'm currently sixteen. My depression began when my family and I moved from the home I grew up in to a new house across the country. I had to start a new school with no one there to help me adjust. I developed social anxiety first. I would read books at lunch, or sometimes just pretend to read them so I didn't have to talk to anyone. Whenever my teachers made us partner up, I would nearly have an anxiety attack because I had no friends to partner up with.

My anxiety quickly turned into depression, and I would often come home with the strongest urge to kill myself, so I wouldn't have to go back the next day to face everyone on my own. I was even afraid to talk to my friends. After about a year living there, we moved back to my home state, but still about three hours from my home town. However, I visited my childhood friends that summer, and for a while I was out of my depression. Untill I began school again. This time I had my sister with me, so I wasn't as alone or afraid, but my social anxiety slowly came back. I had a few friends, but even when I was with them I still felt empty and alone. I would smile and pretend to be happy, but on the inside I felt like I was shriveling up and dying. It got a bit better, but it would fluctuate.

I've been at the same school for two and a half years, and my depression has recently gotten worse than it has been since I first moved away from my hometown, and I don't know why. I've recently joined drama club, I get to help out at the elementary school in my district through the career tech center, and I have a lot of friends this year, but I feel so hollow and alone and sad. I don't want to feel this way, and sometimes I feel like the only way I'll be able to get away from the feeling is to take my own life. I haven't taken it yet because I'm afraid it will hurt, although I have recently realized that overdosing on prescription meds won't. I scare myself when I think about it, and how much I want to do it, but it feels like that's the only way I'll be able to get out of it.

I haven't told my parents that I'm depressed yet, and I don't think they know because I pretend that I'm not when I'm around them, when in reality I'm suffering so much. I don't know how to tell them, and I'm afraid they won't believe me or think I'm joking because I've always done such a good job covering it up. I just don't want to feel this way anymore, and I don't want to cry myself to sleep anymore, or spend time wondering what the most painless way to kill myself is. I'm just really scared.