Well it's 0408 Hours and I'm wide awake having a Marlboro Red and thinking. So I thought I'd share some of those thoughts with the 14 people that usually read my journals (No idea who you people are but thanks for reading). These thoughts deal with my personal battle against severe depression as well as my abundant thoughts of suicide.
It all started years ago. 2005, the year I lost my mother.. Before that horrid year I was an outgoing kid, made friends like nobody else, hell I was one of the most well known kids in my school! But when 2005 hit and I went off to middle school (7th and 8th Grade) I was nothing but a hollow husk of what I used to be. I showed no emotion. I started to think horrid thoughts about how I was useless. 12 years old and a complete social outcast. I had no personality. I was hostile to those around me. Hell I just about caved a kids face into a brick wall for talking about my mother.in a horrid and disrespectful way. It was like the little s**t was spitting on her grave. So I pretty much beat the living s**t out of him in P.E. Class. Coaches understood why I did what I did and I got off with no consequences.
Once High School came around the suicidal thoughts started coming. I had gone my entire 7th and 8th grade years with having no social life. Nobody wanted to be my friend. Everyone hated me for reasons I never knew and still don't know. But I thought 9th grade, Freshman year would be different! I mean come on a kid is finally becoming an adult! But boy was I wrong. Dead wrong. I was still a hated individual for no apparent reason. I'd try to make friends and it would fail. They'd all avoid me like I was the damned Black Plague of Europe. I went the entire year without having very many friends and many many hours of torment from one kid. The guy pissed me off to no end. The rules of High School were different. We had Police Officers around so I couldn't get away with beating this kid into a bloody pulp. So I held my tongue and resisted knocking his little skinny a** across the tile floor. This all leads to my main point. The spawn of my suicidal thoughts. After an entire semester of torment from that kid I had him in my classes second semester as well. The more he tormented me the more I began to despise myself. "Am I not good enough for anyone." "Am I not even a good friend." "What the hell can I do that everyone else can't do better." These were all the thoughts that raced through my head for the next 3 years.
10th Grade year, Sophomore year of High School. A little bit more mature and more knowledgeable. But still the emotionless husk of a person I always had been. I got over the torment and began working on my suicidal thoughts when I found my first actual girlfriend. A girl named Ashleigh. She was the light of my world for a while. But everyone kept warning me that she was a whore, a slut, a b***h, and all of the regular High School insults to break a couple up. She helped me through a lot. And she still remains as the one girl who was actually seen me break down and cry like a baby. I hate showing emotion, even now I hate showing it unless I truly trust that person. When I was with Ashleigh I was actually happy. Granted I was a Sophomore and she was in 8th Grade but I didn't care. She was just a mirror image of myself, she made me feel like a person again. But a few months later me and her split our ways. I once again returned to my old self, depressed, suicidal, and just a toxic person. I'd drag anyone and everyone down with me. Nobody really understood what I was going through and I maintain the fact nobody actually does.
11th Grade, Junior Year a new beginning. I made a deal with myself I'd be more friendly and make more friends. I changed myself for a good semester and made a few new friends until my grades started to tank. I began to fear I wouldn't actually be able to finish High School, And I damn near came close to repeating a year due to that. I became lazy. I didn't want to do anything, I'd rather escape to my games like Call of Duty, Battlefield, World of Warcraft. I could live my life as a Soldier or a Knight, or in my case a Protection Paladin and adventure the battlefields of the blue skies in a fighter jet, get into shootouts in various towns, or wage a war in Azeroth. It was a hell of a lot better of a life than the s**t one I was dealt.
12th Grade. My last year of High School and just last year actually. I was one hell of a depressed guy. I still used games to escape, I was still failing classes. I had absolutely nobody to call my own while my friends all had girlfriends and never enough time to hang out with me and have fun. So I became a loner and started to culture my hobby more. Firearms and History. Many called me a nerd and many called me insane. I finally went into my redneck roots and started dressing the part. Jeans, Plaid shirt, cowboy hat, and instead of Cowboy boots I'd rather wear my Combat Boots (I still wear them consistently. Granted I have to). I felt like myself finally. Up until I made the stupid mistake of bringing my hobby to school. I brought a firearms encyclopedia I usually read at home to school to actually read more and have something to do during my lunch period where I knew absolutely nobody and nobody wanted to speak to me. Mind you this was a predominantly Ghetto school and country boys don't exactly mix well with ghetto wannabe Bloods and Crips. So I sat alone at one of the tables and read my book and was engulfed into my own little world, I'd take ideas from various firearms and draw out detailed blueprints for new weapons to pass the time. And this is where the rest of my first semester went downhill. One of the Ghetto guys went around school calling me "The crazy guy who's gonna come to school and kill everyone with an AK-47," this utterly destroyed any chance I had at finding friends. So I dealt with the ones I had, I didn't mind. They were good friends, and some still are great friends ones I hold close to my heart. Since my social life was now pretty much destroyed I went to my classes and tried to pass, but failed. But there was hope for me graduating. I was given the chance to go to an alternative High School to finish all of my classes quickly and actually graduate on time. Of course I took this chance.
Revamped Senior year. I attended a school called ACE or Alternative Center for Education. It was a decent school. Prison-like really. No speaking, no phones, only work. Hell lunched seemed like prison. You couldn't afford to speak, you'd lose out on time to eat. But I digress. It was pretty good actually. I met some awesome people there, even one I had a short lived relationship with. It was pretty great. I was happy once again, but as I quickly found out my social life and my friends would soon be moving on and forget their High School friends. I'd be going into the United States Army, and they'd be going to Colleges all around the country. I'd miss them and hell some of them I still do miss.
The Army gave me that chance to be happy once again. I was and am happy. I have new friends, I have pride in what I do, Military Police. I still have my moments of depression, mostly because everyone I used to know is now married, pregnant and married, pregnant and dedicated, or just in a dedicated relationship. I haven't met any women whatsoever I find particularly interesting or intelligent. It's quite humorous really. Beautiful women can't really hold a conversation well enough. Especially on base. But granted the women on base want to use their looks to grab a guy with a higher paygrade.
Anywho, that's my journal. Not really that great but I'm just jotting down the thoughts as they come to me. Like always, I appreciate you reading, leave a comment telling me what you think or whatever. Have a good rest of the day.
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