Disclaimer: This really isn’t a normal “creepypasta”. If you are looking for a story about a haunted game or a lost episode of your favorite childhood show, stop here. If, however, if you are looking for an insight into what it’s like to be depressed and lose regard for your own life, and the life of others, then you’ve come to the right place. Names have been withheld based on privacy; the reason why it's here on the Creepypasta Wiki is so I, the author, can post this anonymously, due to the disturbing nature of this story.
Once and still, I’m depressed. Normally people shove depression off as just a passing incident or nothing of enormous importance, just sadness. Those people are ignorant. Depression is a curse, something you can’t shake off no matter how hard you try. I know this first hand. I’m not saying this for attention, or to be a drama queen lusting for attention. I’m saying this to help spread awareness of the silent threat of depression. Please take this seriously, for everyone’s sake. I know the reasons may at first seem trivial, but like I said before, this is a plea.
I’m 16 years old and live with a small wealthy family in a place chances are many of you never heard of. I have a small group of good friends. I believe it was around the year of 2008 when I started to exhibit symptoms of depression. My family began to separate and yell at each other like it’s a god damn war zone over the smallest things, the collapsing economy, and the rule of capital. However my angst hasn’t gotten to where it is now yet. Having to deal with the fact that I’m adopted, I have faults with my Asperger's syndrome with over reactivity, over obsessions which made me feel like an outsider, and for other reasons.
The year of 2010 comes. My day camp, the only place of solitude, fell to a “fascist” camp director who ruined the kingdom of heaven for all of us. Most fellow campers felt strongly about this… our camp was the symbol of our childhood. Now it’s gone with strict rules, and depressing atmosphere for the sake of making money. Nobody liked it, not even the counselors. My parents began to enter financial trouble and began to take out their stress on me… that god damn yelling. I could never sleep, the problems of the world just entering my life with their words of poison. I tried praying to “God” but nothing came of it. My brother began to bully me, yet I didn’t want to fight back. My parents were still too caught in their own problems to care; they said it was his job to do that. I began to barricade myself in my room for days at a time, not really coming out to eat. I feared my family and the world around me.
By the year 2011, I’ve begun to get used to daily home shit. My beloved grandfather and along with most of my family passed away on me at the end of the year. By this point, things could have turned around, but the worst hasn’t come yet. However, clearly, they didn’t. It was March 2011 when I began to see my friends falling in love and getting girlfriends. My friends begin to financially succeed, and they were all happy with their family. However, everything is the opposite for me. I began to lose money, I haven’t been in love for years, I’m sure as hell not a hot shot, and I lost my faith in God. My father’s side of my family denounces my own mother, telling her to “fuck off", attempted divorce, I lost a classmate, and no matter how much I tried I began to fail in subjects like math, which resulted in the overbearing father striking me down. I no longer enjoyed activities I used to. I have to force myself to enjoy such luxuries like video games. A couple of my friends get into trouble with the law, move away, sell their souls to drugs, become bullies, ignore me, and throw me away like trash.
Then my friend’s birthday party comes along in March. There I met his girlfriend, at the time the loveliest girl I’d ever laid my eyes on. Smart, beautiful, fun, and understanding. Love at first sight, if you will. I was happy when I became close friends with her. I was happy talking to her everyday, I was happy when she was and sad when she was. I told her I would be for her 24 hours day, 7 days a week. Even during my summer, while I was away, I talked to her constantly, something I never do with anyone. In September, I professed my love for her and she was not turned away by that. I told her about my problems at home, and my shitty life. She told me she’ll be there for me like the way I was for her.
In early October, she told me she still loved my friend. "I don’t care," I told her. I was actually happy for her.
Until a Saturday in October.
The girl and my friend eloped in front of my eyes. Something they told me they wouldn't do, given that they knew about my love for her. And my trust in my best friend. They both “stabbed” me emotionally along with my wrathful parents. With facing betrayal by my family and friends, I became suicidal. I’ve attempted suicide about 5 times. Lucky me, I never learned how to tie a knot. I began to argue with “voices” over the loss of regard for everyone in my life, and if I should bring them down with me. I began to draw plans for murder-suicide as the voices began assisting me with these objectives. I learned how to make bombs, how to shoot, how to use a knife and stab vital body parts, and how to dispose bodies to get off “scot” free. I began to see everyone around me as not deserving of such happiness, I wanted to see their bodies burn and scream. My dreams began to be more vivid as I began to feel satisfaction as I saw skinless bodies walking around, some burned as black as charcoal while I laughed and saying “My, you have met with a horrible fate, haven’t you?”.
Luckily things have been better. The “voices” have disappeared for now and I’m settling back into normalcy. However, I’m still depressed over the aforementioned reasons. I’m also starting to feel like I’m being watched by Death itself. I know I will die soon, regardless if it’s by my own hand or not. My depression will probably get worse as more shit in my life slams into me like a brick wall. I have tried explaining this but my pleas go on deaf ears. Nobody takes me seriously. So now I hope you begin to take depression seriously. This isn’t schizophrenia, or dementia as much as I’ve made it sound like it was. The next time you see someone with depression, take the time to help them, regardless of how trivial the reasons may seem.
You may never know if they’ve been as low into hell as I’ve been.