** This chapter contains a trigger warning for suicidal thoughts and intentions so if you're triggered by any of these subjects, please avoid reading this!

Through the years of elementary and middle school, I had people to talk to. And some of them were even my friends. As the years went by, the number of people I knew decreased, due to the lack of conversation we had.

In middle school, almost every girl I was in class with, had a crush. Well, except me. They started questioning me who was my crush, and when I would tell them I haven't had one, they laughed at me. They never believed me. They started questioning my sexuality, if I was gay or bisexual. I was straight, and I still am.

I became best friends with a girl (let's name her) Anna and we attended the same high school. I told her about some deepest thoughts that were going on my mind, such as the fact about being afraid of the dark and will I even outgrow it; being worthless for this world, etc.

I have been depressed in that period and she sort of helped me out to not think that much. Anna befriended another girl who came into high school as the new one. (Let's name her Eve) Eve was a little awkward, but because Anna and I were also out of everybody's league, I befriended Eve too.

She was easy going and funny sometimes, but, boy, I was fooled by her innocent appearance. I was so stupid and oblivious to notice that telling Eve about the crush I had from eight grade to second year in high school (the period when I told her), she went behind my back and told everything to (let's call her) Stella.

I was 'in a war' with Stella since I can remember. She mocked me the most about everything, starting with my cheap clothes. She wanted to make me miserable, and because I was the quiet one, I let her.

Every time I got back home from school, I couldn't feel more worthless. I hid my emotions from my parents and acted like nothing happened. I even made up stories to them when they asked me how my day at school was.

I felt pathetic, I felt like I didn't deserve to live anymore. I wished for a miracle to happen and make me talkative so I could defend myself.

 I was still friends with Anna and Eve when they went behind my back and told Stella about my 'Cinderella clock', and made up stories that I hadn't had a shower in four days.

Stella, the one who always spoke her mind, told me all about this but, she never mentioned who told her. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me. I cried and cried in my bed, feeling like a piece of cheap fake porcelain who would break any minute. I wanted for a car or a bus to run over me and end me there on the street.

I found my cure when I took one weekend without my 'friends', Anna and Eve, and went on a long walk. It helped me realize that they were the one that knew about my stuff because I never told anybody about it.

I ended every kind of connection with them in the last year of high school. I wouldn't lie that I still felt like an outsider, without any friends to talk to, but I finished high school.

I didn't attend college, because I didn't have the money for it. Instead, I went to work. On my first job, I made some friends and had my first boyfriend, only to find out that he was a ladies' man.

My depression came back and made me look stupid, again. I couldn't believe how I was played by a guy who went with all the girls from the city. I felt like my world was falling apart.

I drove one night to the closest hill and sat on the edge of a cliff. I wondered if I should throw myself in the water or go back. I thought about my family and how they would feel without me. And I also couldn't swim, so if I changed my mind in the middle of the water to stay alive, I wouldn't survive.

On my second job, I didn't have any friends because everyone was cutting connections with me, and I thought that that was because I wasn't the most talkative one. The toughest time for me was when an older colleague of mine kept asking me if I went out (with friends) over the weekend. I always lied.

Just when I thought that I was getting over my depression, a close person of mine died...

I still haven't got over the fact that he is dead. And I wish I could've talked to him more than I ever had.

I shut myself from the world, building my walls until a guy came into my life. No, not a boyfriend, but a real friend. To this day, we still are best friends, because we both went through similar situations in our lives.

And I learned this: Things will always sort out in the right way. Maybe a little late, but they always will. I'm not saying that I overcame my depression, but when I have a friend like (let's name him) Gunner, I keep reminding myself that I am not the only person in this world with problems.