Hi everyone, I apologize for this being a longer and quite frankly, a very serious entry.

Over the summer of 2014 and into the end of the year, I was extremely depressed, and I didn't understand why. I would randomly cry at times, and if a friend got the slightest bit upset with me, I'd go home and run up to my room, silently sobbing. I never really knew how to explain it to anyone, so I wrote this little monologue in my iPod:

"Hello.

Depression has struck me yet again, and this time, it has hit home. Lately, I've felt hated, though my friends show no sign of hostility towards me. I feel worthless, though no one has told me this- okay, that's a lie... I've told myself that.

I should be happy; my mother just bought me some nice clothing, and I'm doing good in school, but I can't shake this agony and dread off like I used to... Why? Why me?

I feel so alone at school. I mean, I have nice friends, but my best friend (I will keep her identity anonymous for obvious reasons) doesn't go to the same school as me. The students at my school are extremely judge mental; if something someone does or wears doesn't have to do with what's in or drugs, you are an outcast.

It's really hard for me to go to school because bullies from my elementary school have followed me into junior high, and will mostly likely Follow me into high school. Most of them don't even realize what they did. I just want to go up to the, and get in there faces and show and tell them what they did to me, how they mentally tortured me and ripped my heart out, and took away my ability to trust. My bullies are my ex-best friends. My mom's always told me to "kill them with kindness," but doing that only kills me.

I don't want to go to the school counsellors about my 'problem'; they don't know how to fix me, they only know how to make it worse- that's what they're really paid to do.

I have a little something I like to call my "happy mask." Whenever it comes on, it makes me become all innocent and sweet and caring, and it literally masks my depression. I can't control when it comes on- my happy mask is a bad thing. It prevents me from telling my story, reaching out, and searching for help, because it forces me to forget about my depression for a moment, and only focus on other peoples' lives. You'd think that being able to forget about your sadness is a good thing, right? Wrong. It doesn't allow me to get support. Heh, I guess you could say it makes me the perfect actress. But whenever I'm alone, it comes off and I'm left to wallow in my anguish and endless despair. It makes me hate myself for not asking for help when I had the chance- it doesn't want me to be happy, ironically, it wants to make me appear happy. It's not real happiness.

Only two people in my life know of my depression: my best friend (again, anonymous), and my mother. With my best friend, I feel so happy around her. I love her so much- not in a sexual way or anything; she just makes me feel so happy and carefree. She is my rock, and has always been there for me. You see, I have a fear of being judged, and it isn't something I can control- I'm just like that. I could never work up the courage to tell my father about all this (my depression and fears). He's too oblivious to see my cries for help in the little things I do. He just sits there, watching his baby girl wither away and die on the inside, and he doesn't even know it. When I disobey him, my stubbornness is a way of screaming, "Help! I need you and I'm hurt!" He just doesn't catch on.

I abuse myself. Verbally in thoughts, I bully and harass myself, and I can't stop. I claw and scratch at my arms to the point where they are raw and red (which doesn't help with my kp, mind you), and sometimes bleed. Whenever I get a new razor to shave, I just stare at it in my shower, imagining the things I could do besides shaving hair- I'm scared one day I'll do something like that without my own willpower.

I have more friends online that I feel I can trust than in real life. A few of you (and you know who you are) have sent the most heartfelt and kind comments and replies on things, and they make each day a bit easier to bare. But, if I told my mother about this, she'd just say, "you need to make some real friends," or, "they're just pedophilic maniacs faking it." She wouldn't understand how bonds can be formed through the Internet. She says she'd never judge me no matter what. When she says that, she may feel that she's telling the truth, but to what extent will that be a lie?

I'm sorry for droning on and on about my depression and issues, but I need to let this out. I'm lost, and I can't get through this dark labyrinth in my head. It's like the devil himself has planted a demon from Hell into my mind and won't ever let me enjoy the gift of life.

Some reading this may think, "You attention w***e, you're only doing this for pity!" Well you're wrong. Depression is a wall that is blocking me from everything I know and love, and I need others' consent to break the wall down."

Gradually, my depression has subsided. I have absolutely stellar friends, and I've made another best friend (besides the one I've mentioned before). He's everything I could ask for in a friend, and I know he'd stand by my side until the bitter end. And he's also my first 'love', you could say- my goodness, just looking at him and being around him makes my heart pound and throb. Sorry! I'm getting off topic ^^'

Anyways, I just wanted to post this to prove a point- most people in society don't understand that even though depression is an extremely common thing, it's still serious and shouldn't be taken lightly,

Again, sorry for the long entry- thanks for reading.