I screamed help me but my mouth didn't move.

Ah, it’s finally October. Full of basic hoes slurping down their pumpkin lattes and wearing the skin of terrified lambs in shoes called Uggs. Growing up, we were placed in costumes of all things wicked. We walked for miles knocking on doors and being afraid of the creepy house no one ever went to. The only thing we had to worry about were the rumors of blades in a snickers bar, the house that gave you school supplies, and your parents stealing your candy after you passed out at night. Being scared only lasted a couple minutes and before you knew it you were carried home. I would give anything to go back to those times.

Now, the things that scare us are people themselves and the demons inside us. When I was younger, I had a friend who would message me saying she couldn’t stand being here. Her family life was haunting and she barely fit in at school. Every night I would have to explain her purpose. Every night I had to hope and pray my words were getting through to her. I was in middle school when I understood depression and mental disorders. I never understood why she wanted to kill herself but unfortunately now I do. It seemed depression and mental disorders followed me and every time someone I knew killed themselves I feel their hurt and suffering. I understand.

You know, I never thought I would have an anxiety attack until I moved to LA and was under pressure to become something. Living paycheck to paycheck made it even worse. Then the immense disappointment from myself made me go into a deep depression. I started questioning everything. Making sure I was surrounded by people because those thoughts were attached to me like gasoline and a match. Why was I here? Why didn’t I understand myself? Why was I even sad in the first place? Half the time I was sad for no reason, I just was. The main source always came back to being alone and me being scared of myself. So, I would fill my time. Making sure I was able to not feel anything because once I started I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t turn off my brain. Depression would set in like a dark cloud and I would feel numb starring off into space thinking and wishing something bad would just happen to me to feel something. I just needed to feel something. I was screaming help me but my mouth didn’t move. Drinking enough to make me just pass out and stop thinking was what worked for a while. I would have high highs but then low lows. I used to think that once I became something I would die. I was sixteen having these thoughts. I can’t tell you why or how but I just thought that was going to be it. I would try to hide it well but hiding made it worse and instead of just letting it ride out, I knew I needed to fight back.

Depression is a battle only you can take on yourself. Only you can find your fix that can get you out of it. But, you have to fight like hell every time the thoughts creep back in.

A year ago, I finally realized that I can’t live this way so I needed to understand why I was having these thoughts. I use to write goodbye notes but now I write to understand. I write and eventually I get to the source of the issue and try to treat it. Writing affirmations and making myself get out of bed to run and release everything. Ask my cycling class, I’m always crying at the end releasing all this hurt I didn’t know I had. I found my fixes to get me out of my depression and once I start feeling it, I try to treat it right away instead of pushing it down till it becomes something bigger. But, not everyone is like me. Sometimes you can’t find that fix and I feel for whoever can’t. There’s seven or more mental disorders and I’m sorry to whoever has to deal with that. I’m sorry to those who don’t understand us and think we should be thinking about everyone else when we have those thoughts. We do, but sometimes it’s too much. Unfortunately it’s just too much and we think life is better without us in it. Don’t worry mom, I don’t think that anymore. I still have depression but I understand how to fight back now.

Demons are our real life mental disorders that unfortunately we can’t cast out. Eventually it sets back in and you have to fight and crawl your way out of it. I use to be scared of Halloween and haunted houses but now I’m scared of what lies within. I’m scared of creeping back into depression for reasons I don’t know. I’m scared of my demons, what are you afraid of?