[NeverStoppedCrying]

I started struggling with depression several years ago, and though in the last half a year or so through having found some friends and stability it has pretty significantly let up and I am much better living with it, it too often still seems to plague me and when everything adds up (all the little symptoms, all the urges, all the layers of sadness, all the stigma, all the misunderstanding, all the external circumstance, all the hopelessness and self-doubt) it can become to much for me to handle-- especially on my own. I don't feel like I have anywhere to turn to. I want to kill myself, but I also want to get help, and a lack of resource for that help can really push me farther in despair and have me teetering between the overwhelming depression and yearn to give up and the hope and yearn for recovery. I'm sorry if this is long, but here is some basic background information on me regarding myself and my mentality:
1. I am currently in eighth grade and just turning 14.
2. I started displaying mild symptoms of depression and experiencing thoughts of suicide in 5th grade (age 10-11). My parents fought a lot during that time and were on the brim of separation (they stayed together and hardly fight anymore, though) and I had been dealing with low self-esteem for some time.
3. My father can be a very angry person but has only physically hurt me once. It was before 5th grade, but I'm not sure when exactly, when he choked me (for lack of a better word. It wasn't an attempt to kill, or anything, he just got pushed over the edge. It didn't even hurt very much.) My mother grew up rough (I don't know a lot of details, but I know she attempted suicide once when she was a kid and that she has two brothers with differing severity of mental retardation) and she smokes. I love both of my parents.
4. When I was in sixth grade, I started to get very, very depressed. I was on a downhill slope: it started with self-loathing and periods of deep sadness/numbness along with mild anxiety and spiraled into a relentless, smothering depression to accompany the anxiety (which also worsened) and self-hate. I started cutting and attempted suicide multiple times. Into seventh grade it continued to gradually worsen until I swear it couldn't have gotten worse. I don't know how to describe the emotions, really, the best I can do is give simple explanations and relay the symptoms. Every day was an intense struggle, by November of seventh grade I was heavily addicted cutting and did it was often as possible all over my body (well, pretty much: arms, legs, wrists, ankles, back, stomach, collar bones, even on the inside of my lips with my braces). I was in a whirlpool of awfulness-- every day layered with pure depression, emotional numbness, overwhelming sadness, intense and mostly school related anxiety, self-loathing, extreme urges to cut, plaguing suicidal thoughts that seemed to smother me. I tried to kill myself a lot that school year. Hanging, choking, overdose, smothering, drowning, fatal cuts. None of them worked (obviously) nor did they require medical attention. I started popping pills. I counted calories religiously and restricted my diet as much as I could. I continuously attempted self-vomiting (only worked once or twice). I did not tell my parents. At times I wanted to, at times I didn't, and mostly I was too scared to.
5. From about halfway into sixth grade to more than halfway into seventh I didn't have many friends. One of my friends found out I was cutting, told my whole 'group', and then I was an outcast. Most of the school didn't know, but I was talked about CONSTANTLY by my group of friends. I couldn't walk through the halls without hearing them whisper about me, couldn't sit down at lunch without a hush falling over our table and dirty looks thrown in my direction. That didn't help with my struggling, obviously.
6. I did have one friend who knew what I was going through and didn't hate me. She was going through pretty much the same thing, but had been experiencing it longer and her depression worsened quicker. Of course, our other friends didn't hate HER, and rather tried to help her, but for some reason I was different. Anyways, I talked to my best (well, only) friend as often as I could. I sent her a lot of emails. She helped me by understanding. At the end of 6th grade, I was banned from contacting her because her mom, who found out I was struggling, thought I was a bad influence. It sucked. My friend started going to therapy, was supported by her whole family, got medication, and is doing much, MUCH better now.
7. So, through all this, I managed to keep straight A's! I own lots of long shirts and pants, I have a cat, I didn't lose much weight, I'm good at faking a smile: my parents had no idea of my struggles. Until one day. See, my good friend, after receiving an angel in the form of a therapist and some Zoloft, decided to try and help me, too. Before she got help, we both encouraged each other to. I guess we were always to scared to, and in times of pure hopelessness, recovery doesn't seem like such a bright option. Anyway: After my friend got help she went to our (crappy) school counselor. She told the counselor about my self-harm and told her I was at risk for suicide. Days passed. Weeks passed. Half a month later, I got a pass telling me to go down to the counseling office. Slightly offended at the lateness and obviously hurriedly scrawled note, I ignored it. My friend went to another school counselor, who was technically supposed to only work with older grades. He, on the other hand, actually (sort of) helped me. We talked slightly, he called my parents, explained I had cut and had thoughts of killing myself (yeah I wasn't completely honest there. A lot more than thoughts. But I had only just met the guy). He explained I seemed depressed and gave me a list of referral to give to my dad.
8. I thought I would be helped and OK! Nope. My dad ignored the list, told me not to cut because it was just a bad way of coping, and that was the end of that.
9. The end until my friend printed out nearly ALL of the heartfelt emails I sent her and gave them to the counselor.
10. Long story short, (well, this is really long already), my parents were called down to the office. Principal and like three social workers I never met before involved. School threatened to call the cops on my parents for medical negligence if they wouldn't seek mental help for me (the emails were pretty revealing :S they still only knew about one of the attempts, though). I wasn't allowed back at school 'til I got a psych eval.
11. My parents took me to their old marriage counselor because they didn't want to send me to any old social worker and wanted me to go back to school. I was not entirely honest with her but I tried my best. She helped somewhat, called me depressed, clinically depressed, chronically depressed, severely clinically depressed, all that. Recommended I see a psychiatrist for possible prescription. At that, my mom freaked out on her.
12. After three or four sessions with her, my parents decide to take me to a therapist specialized in teens with depression. I liked her a lot. Because I only got to see her for 4 or 5 weeks (sometimes once a week, sometimes twice), I never got completely comfortable with her. That's understandable, right? Anyways, she highly recommended medicine, and said if my parents wouldn't take me to a psychiatrist, I should be hospitalized so that I could get immediate and intensive treatment. (She also called me majorly depressed, clinically suffering from severe depression, etc etc). I never went to a psychiatrist. I really liked this therapist and I felt that once I got comfortable with her I could get on a promised road to recovery. But my parents, once again, had me switch therapists. Without any warning this time.
13. The third therapist I saw I hated. Turns out, my parent's insurance only covers two therapists. So, I saw the first one, hated her, begged my parents not to take me back to her. They reluctantly agreed.
14. Fourth and final therapist I saw one time. I told my parents I wanted to go back to the second one pleasepleaseplease, they said no way, depression isn't even real you're just hormonal and attention-seeking and cowardly and bad at coping, etc etc.

Let me make it clear that my parents do not really 'believe' in depression and think I'm just bad at coping and that that's something I need to learn to do by myself. No matter how many licensed professionals try to explain otherwise. They are very iffy on the topic of psychiatric medication, my mother is COMPLETELY against it. When she was young (teenaged or so) and living with her parents, her brother, who had been on a variety of these medications for autism, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder and more, made an indirect attempt to kill her parents. She blames the meds.

Lately I have been thinking about suicide constantly. My depression, which I had seemed to gotten a hold of, has instead gotten a hold of me. I feel so incredibly lost, with all of my emotions worsening each day. I stopped cutting for a while (it was a process, but eventually I managed a few months clean) but I broke down about two weeks ago. I cut all over my thighs and stomach, a few times on my wrist. I feel that I've been left dead from my previous struggles (I know they weren't that bad. I feel awful and guilty for complaining about them, but I just want to explain. I'm sorry) and I want to finish the job and end my physical life. I am drained, and sad, and anxious, and I hate myself.
I am desperate for help, but I have nowhere to turn. My parents don't understand and won't let me go back to counselling, let alone be put on medication to help me manage. I do exercise everyday (I enrolled in school swimming so that my lack of motivation doesn't keep me from exercise) but it doesn't really help with my depression (I know it's bound to help long-term, but I'm desperate for relief NOW). I can't really tell my friend because there's nothing she can really do. She tries to be there for me, but honestly it doesn't do much. I would go to my school counselor again, but he would tell my parents.

I'm completely lost. I'm sorry this is so long, I pretty much vented everything about the last couple of years, I realize. I'm sorry. If you have any advice, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you so much for reading.

[whenwillitend]

Hey there, i'm not feeling so great myself right now, so i don't really have much advice for you. but one thing that jumped out at me was that your dad choked you, yet you're making all kinds of excuses for him. what he did was not okay!! it's natural to love your parents, but that doesn't mean they can do whatever they want with and to you.

you sound like you need some real help, and fast. please talk to a school counselor, or really anyone else you trust. anyone who is in a position to help.

i hope you can get some help, with or without your parents' approval.

[Sam2]

Hi. Its good that you found us. Its a safe place to turn to.

Because you are a minor, you are at a disadvantage. We live in a society that is litigation happy, so its hard to get any medical or therapuetic help without having it go through your parents. Professionals are scared of being sued.

Most areas have a suicide hotline, and you don't have to give your name. If you were an adult, I'd say get yourself to the emergency room, but they won't do anything with your parent's ok. Because the volunteers that work the suicide hotlines have so much exposure to problems like yours, they may have some suggestions as to what you can do to get help.

Do you really want to die, or do you just want the pain to end? There is a difference. You are smart, articulate and a fighter. You are doing everything you know how to seek out help, both verbally and through your actions. Don't give up. You have a lot of potential.

I understand your defending your parents. No matter how abusive a parent gets, their children still need them and love them. How would they respond to you if you suggested family counselling? If they would go, it would be beneficial for both of you as well as making your parents aware of your plight. Sometimes parents will listen to a professional when they pooh pooh what their kids tell them. Even if its the same thing.

See if you can reach the therapist you liked and ask them what you can do. They may not be able to treat you without your parent's consent, but you never know.

Sam2