With this new way of life that I have found, and a new slimmer body, I never felt better. But with every good news, bad news usually follows close behinds.   

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Now that my mom and everyone else knew I wasn't fat...anymore, new things in my life started to appear. 

I no longer wanted to eat, the thought of food made me want to throw up, I no longer became interested in things, my grades began to slip, I no longer cared about anything or anyone. 

While most adults, who I told this too, said that most teenagers, especially in the seventh grade, feels this way. Now, while I thought they were right, I knew that was not just the case; but like I said, I did not care. I actually, at the time did not know the word for my condition, but later, I would find out...

Things at home, started to become a wreck. Screaming always occurred at my house (mostly directed towards me), I always got grounded for saying things bad to my parents, I even got spankings (in which I never ever cried when I received them). My mom actually, slowly started to notice this too. 

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My feels for everyone and everything diminished completely. I no longer loved school anymore (and if you know me, I am infatuated -to be deeply in love with- with school and I have always-minus seventh grade- been). At school, I no longer smiled, I no longer laughed, I no longer participated, I no longer tried, I no longer did anything if I didn't have to (even eat). 

Like a good friend Morgan Richard was, she noticed. She actually, one day confronted me. "What is going on with you, Bri?" She asked me one day. 

Pretending like everything was okay, I pretended to smile and asked innocently, "What do you mean?" 

That was when Morgan told me everything that she has noticed, and I mean everything. By the time she got done, she was crying. "I know what is going on Bri." She looked me in the eyes. "You are going through something called depression, and Bri, I know, It sucks...Depression can be a B**** but you need to learn to overcome it."

Knowing that she was right, I walked away, "You don't know that..." 

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Later that day, when I got home, I researched the word. Depression was the  feelings of severe despondency and dejection. Well, yeah, this was definitely me, but so what? It was not like anybody cared about me anyway (this was the thought process that would run through my head for a long time). 

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The year of seventh grade ended and summer came and went. I guess I can tell you a conversation that occurred between Sarah and I...

Sarah told me that my behavior, one day, was bumming her out when we went outside and went for a walk.

Me being me, didn't give a crap about what my behaviors was doing to her. When I looked at her, she was crying. "Bri," she told me, "I am worried about you. Please tell me what you are thinking and feeling right now. Please." 

I, getting a little bit upset, which turned to anger, for showing some kind of emotion to her, told her. I ended the conversation with, "If I was to die right now...If I was to run out into the middle of that road and that car hit me (a car was passing by at that time), no one would give two s***s  about me..." 

Sarah, crying,  told me, "I would." and I guess at that moment she knew what I was going through. (She was actually in the third grade when this whole ordeal happened). 

Her words actually touched me, which made me very upset. I ran towards the house and locked my self in the bathroom; and cried...

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When something that affects me deeply happens, I actually start to feel bad about myself and I reprimand my person for affecting others....