When I was younger, I was afraid of being forgotten. That was my biggest fear, to not change anything in the world, to not make a difference. nowadays I kind of lost myself.
When I was fifteen I dreamt about being a writer, a film director an actress. I wanted to do everything and create something that would out live me.
When I was sixteen I found a group of friends who I loved very much, but they did not care about me as much as I thought. I fell in love with a boy who cheated on me with his ex- girlfriend. Everyone I knew, even my sibling took his side in the argument and I found myself with no friends. That’s when I felt depressed for the first time. I started cutting myself, I still have the scars to this day and even after so many years I still have to fight the urge to hurt myself.
When I was seventeen I was slowly getting rid of the depression. I met someone. Funny, smart and kind boy. We started dating. Everything was fine. I dreamt about our future life together.
When I was eighteen. I still had my boyfriend and still didn’t have any friends. For the first year of the relationship I didn’t feel like I need any. But now I start to feel lonely again, having no one to really talk to. I dreamt about having friends.
When I was nineteen I was in a loving relationship, I still had no friends, and I was just finishing high school. I did not care about not having friends, I did not care about my boyfriend, I did not care about my education, I did not care about my family. I lied in the dark and felt nothing. It took me three months before I realized what was happening. I knew the feeling of depression, but this was more intense. I went to the doctor. She prescribed me pills. Around that time I also started having obssesive thoughts. Every time I walked past the light switch I had to switch it many times until I felt it was right. Having been diagnosed with OCD made sense, I always knew there was something wrong with me. I dreamt about being normal again.
When I was twenty I dropped out of college, because of my social anxiety. I got a dog and my depression got better. I got married to the love of my life. I didn’t do it in a hope of curing myself, but because I love him with all my heart and I didn’t want to wait another second to marry him. I dreamt about being healthy for our future.
Now I’m twenty – one. The dreams of my teenage years are gone. Depression robbed me of them. Because of it I don’t dream anymore. I used to love reading, history, talking about politics, going out with my friends, arguing with someone, ranting.
I don’t care about any of that now. Being depressed doesn’t mean you are sad all the time, more often than not it means you feel completely apathetic. I don’ feel happy, but I don’t feel angry either. The years of depression didn’t change my personality, they erased it. I don’t exist anymore. There is my body and small fraction of who I used to be, which only my husband gets to see, because I’m too scared to leave the house.
I’m twenty – one and I dream about nothing.