personal stories


I am a 14 year old Male living in Australia and just about to go into 9th
grade. I have been depressed for ages now but I have only started getting
help recently. I goto a counsellor and I am on anti-depressants.
It all started in my fourth year of school. My younger brother (at the age
of 3) got diagnosed with Autism and that throw my family life down the
drain. I started receiving little attention, my father spent most of his
time at work or doing something rather than coming home and my mother had a
nervous breakdown in which I was forced to stay with my grandparents for a
few weeks. That totally messed up my attitude on life even though I was at
such a young age. The next year my friends joined a bigger group (I was
currently going to a snobby private school) in which the leader of that
group hated me, still I was forced to go along and I started getting beaten
up. For the next year I was a social outcast and was hated by all because I
had my own opinions and my own taste in music.

I then got excepted into a selective high school where the work load is
extremely high and me being the anxious type cracked under pressure. Though
I survived through year 7, I got into year 8 and discovered alcohol and
marijuana (which I used and still use on a regular bases to excape
reality). Then one day when I was trying to make a glass waterpipe for my
regular marijuana use, the bottle exploded and glass went everywhere. I
started cleaning it up when I noticed a drop of blood on my pants. I looked
everywhere and found a cut on my wrist and instead of it hurting I enjoyed
it, watching myself bleed. Since then I have started thinking about suicide
almost everyday and I have self-inflicted cars and cuts all over my wrist.
(I actually have a really deep one that I just cut about 2 days ago after I
got into a fight with my friend). For the past two weeks I have barely
eaten because the thought of food makes me sick and I have to force myself
to eat dinner just to take my medication. My mum tells me on a regular
bases that anti-depressants are cop-outs and I have a really low image of

If anybody wants to send me an email they are quite welcome to.

Christopher Ward name is Brandi I am 15 years old. I suffer from depression. And I have for about 2 years but I never told anyone until recently. I was a cutter. in september my mom's fiance (whom I was very close too) was killed in a car acciendent and a week later my great-grandpa died. So that brought my depression to my mom's eyes. Because I wouldn't go to school, I was doing drugs very heavy.And I was cutting myself. And attempted suicide. I finally got up the courage to tell her what had been going on. She was very upset but would do what ever it took to get me better. She took me to a conselour and he put in in a hospital for adolesents with the same problem as me. It was good knowing I wasn't alone. I felt like no-one knew what I was going through. In the hospital we did group therepy, one on one therepy and that really helped but what helped most of all was talking to my peers that were going through the same thing as me. My doctor put me on 2 antidepressents and I will problley be on something for the rest of my life.I stayed in the hospital almost a month. When I was released people would say hey brandi where have you been? And I would make up excuses but finally they found out the truth...some people would have comments like you've been in a nut house .... and I belived them at first ...maybe I am crazy I thought...but then I relized No I'm not!! I am just as normal as them... Sometimes its a pain in the butt having to be on meds but remember its better to be on meds to be yourself then to be depressed all the time.If I can say anything to teens It would be If you are going through a depression and feeling the need to hurt yourself PLEASE tell someone before it gets out of hand.. And don't ever let anyone make you feel bad about who you are .... There is nothing wrong with having depression ... there is something wrong with not doing something about it.

If any teen ever needs to talk E-mail me _



My name's Ellie, I'm 13 and in grade 8. I've been battling clinical depression for about a year and a half now. I live with my dad's parents, who've raised me since I was 8 months old. I don't get along with my biological mother, because she was using drugs when she was pregnant with me, which led to my blindness. My biological father and I, with the help of a family worker, are slowly starting to build a relationship, one that we've never had. My mother's mother pretty much disowned me, saying that she wanted nothing more to do with me, because I was a selfish and spoiled brat, and other reasons that she's failed to mention. Those are just the recent events.
I think my depression started when I transfered schools, from a blind bording school, to a publick sighted school. When I'd first made the desission, the thought that I wouldn't be the senter of attention anymore never even crossed my mind. Well, as you can see, that's exactly what happened. After the first month or two, I started getting dizzy spell's. I was also starting to feel helpless, because at my new school, since I was still learning my way around, I had to depend on other students to escort me to my classes. This was hard on me, because at my former school, I new the building inside and out. That was problem number one.
As the dizzy spell's got worse, I was put on a home school program. My vision Itinerant, who brailles my work, among other things, came to my home three times a week, to try and keep me up to date with my class. During this, my symtums got worse. Along with the dizzy spell's, I stopped eating regularly, staied up until 5 in the morning, and slept all day. When my teacher would give me work to do, I couldn't consontrate. My mind went blank.
After the dizzy spell's were over, they were closely followed by Head aches, then by stomach pains, and nauseia. Each time I went to the doctor, I got the same answer. "We don't know what's wrong." I was referred to Nerolagists, Stomach specialists, and even got a CT Scan done on my head, all with the exact result. No one could find anything wrong.
When all of this finally went away, I had been so used to being at home, and my paterns had gotten so crazy, that I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed to go to school in the morning. I was still staying up all night, and barely eating. My parents started accusing me of not wanting to go to school.
Finally, in May, I started considdering the possability that I was depressed. At first, I wouldn't, and couldn't except that this might be the case, but as time passed, and things got worse, I realized that this hadd to be the case. When I finally told my Mom, I started crying, and asking her if I was crazy. I hadn't told anyone about my speculation for fear of rejection. My Mom phoned my Itinerant Teacher, who promptly phoned my school's Vice Principal who made me an appoint with the school's Social Worker. To make a long story short, she was easy to talk to, but she wasn't the help I needed. She made me an appointment with Sick Children Hospital's Chrisis department. That, was a disaster. The woman I saw was a bitch.
After that, I went to my doctor, and got him to make an appointment with a sykiatrist for me. I saw him on June 28th. We didn't really disguss much at the session, just the events that led to my depressive eppisode and other treatment options such as medicine.
During the summer, I went through a period of denial, believing that everything was fine. My grandmother left for a two week trip to Guyana where she's originally from, and I staied with my aunt and uncle. Things just went down hill from there. I started hating myself again, and basically went back the way I'd started. I was scared to tell my parents that I had relapsed which in reality, was actually my denyal period coming to an end. I was scared of being labled a failier, because deep down, I believed that I was.
Two days vefore school started, I was on the phone with my friends, talking about how I couldn't hold on anyore, and that it was getting harder and harder. My cousin who was lseeping over at the time, called my mother, and told her that I was crying. As soon as I told her that I was depressed again, I started shaking, Crying, and repeating over and over how sorry I was.
School started two days later. The day after, at 11:00 at night, I slit my wrists in the bathroom with a raiser blade. I was going to slit both of them, but then I got scared, and dropped the blade in the sink. When my mom saw my wrist, she bandaged it, and told me to go to sleep. The next day, I talked to a chrisis support team from a local treatment center that I was admitted to two days later as being Clinically depressed and . I staied at the treatment center fora month and three weeks. Both my family and I gained knolage about depression, and I finally got the help that I'd desperately needed. I've also learned who my true friends are. My former best friend, who I've known for five years, thinks I'm insane, and tried to steal my boyfriend away from me, later denying the whole thing.
Although this battle is far from over. Even though I've been at home for a month, I'm still seeing my Sykiatrist once a week, as well as taking Celexa which is a type of AntiDepressant. I'm greatful to my boyfriend who's been there for me through it all, as well as my family and newly developed friends at school, who've been so understanding. If it wasn't for any of them, I probably wouldn't be here writing this right now. Now, I'm looking forward to attending Rosedale Heights Secondary School next year, which is a school specializing in the arts. Even though it's likely for me to have another clinical depressive eppisode again, I'm just consontrating on getting fully better, and living life to it's fullest.
I hope this story has helped at least one person see that there is hope for people like myself who've suffered with depression for an extensive period of time like I have. I also want you to know that your not alone. If anyone needs to talk to someone, or just has questions for me feel free to email me at


Um, hey. my name is karina and i am 14 years old. my story is a long one, so i'm not too sure if you want it on your site. i don't really know where to begin, it seems as if i have always felt this feeling of sadness and emptyness, but it's gotten really bad recently. i've been cutting for about 3 months, and i have scars and scratches all over my arms and legs. i hate to look at them, but cutting is the only thing i can do to get rid of my pain. i used to use drugs, but i quit. my family is so great, and i feel bad for not being happy like them. i take my meds and go to counsling to make them happy, but i never feel anything besides sadness. i don't have anybody i can talk to about this because they all judge me and put on fake expressions to "comfort me". but the pain doesn't stop there, i think about suicide constantly. i think about how easy it would be to just leave this world and leave the pain. but i can never bring myself to do it. there's so much more, but i don't think people would be that intereseted. i want to ask a favor though, if anyone knows or went through the same thing that i am dealing with, please email me at please.