The inside look of teenage sadness

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
The inside look from a teenager that both other teenagers and adults may glimpse into the ideals.

Submitted: September 22, 2011

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Submitted: September 22, 2011

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For one to understand what goes through the mind of a depressed teenager, one must understand the cause or causes of the depression. Teenagers are susceptible on a higher level to depression than either adults or small children. Our life is hard, painstaking and filled with the hardship of understanding  the world in its true form. Anything could cause depression in us from the death of the loved one, to the heart being broken from one we trusted.

In essence, every teenager is depressed in some sort of a way between the six years of teenager hood, even earlier or later. People like me aren’t emo, in fact, emo does not exist for it is just a label. An emo person is no one as in that person does not exist. We are simply teenagers who have been hit harder than others. We yearn to rewind, redesign whatever went amiss but we know we can’t. We are realist which in turn furthers the depression. We do not look to a deity or a higher power for we know that none exist.

So when we are broken far enough down, we metaphorically stop and die. And I too, have stopped and died.

My story is one of hardship from the start. It is a huge miracle that I have not committed suicide already and left this plain existence for someone else to live. But yet I have endured and now that feeling of strength that I always would have is slowly ebbing away in a current of confusion and heart break. From birth my life was on the verge of collapse. My father was one who wished to be kind but yet, he was the worst bastard anyone could think about.

I have barely any memories of my father since most are pushed into the recesses of my mind but those that exist are ones that fill me with loathing and hate. He not only hurt and beat my mother but turned to me and attempted to do the same. My mother always intervened. I suppose that is why I still try to hold strong for I feel that the debt to my mother is not yet paid, and might never be.

My mother, although irritating as hell, is my savior and mentor. She raised me though the hurt and taught me to be the teenager I am today. She may drink, she may be pissed almost twenty-four seven but when no one else would listen to me, hear me out or just lend a hand, she did. That is the debt I have yet to pay and although many of you would say that I should not feel that I need to return a debt of sorts, I believe I do.

Unfortunately, my teenage years are slowly making me forget what I am here for and I feel myself slipping into the blacker void of depression that I had already once slipped into. I fought my way out but that does not mean I totally rid myself of it. You never can. It’s an invisible scar on your mentality that eats away at you for years. I counted myself lucky. My friends would constantly lift me out, clinging onto me even when I felt the need to just fall into the darkness.  They were the reinforcement behind my wall, rebuilding it alongside me countless time without complaint. But eventually a wall will crack, and start to become easier to access than the first rebuild.

Now I feel that darkness grip me once more and this time my friends cannot help me. Cutting myself has left scars but now it does not appease this growing sadness and numbness that has overcome me. This wall I have built around myself has split and what came forth was the darkness. What, do you say, has caused me to slip this far? The only thing that could cause a teenager to fall this far. The breaking of his heart.

True, parents insist that to their sons that teenage girls are nothing but cheating, backstabbing people,  but a teenage male cannot help but try to find one who he can hold his hand with and let the darkness fade. For me, I have searched, found and been hit with the words, “I think we should end this”. I have shrugged it off, my carefree attitude flipping off the girl who I was no longer with. But although I might kid myself into believing that this had not affected me in any shape or form, it lets the darkness get closer, inch by stealthy inch.

And then, like today, I received a text message from a current girlfriend and the dam holding that darkness back exploded in an infamous detonation of realization and surrender. For once, I might let the darkness take me, for I feel that no longer can I keep living knowing that the same thing that has happened with countless other girls has happened with the girl I held true. More true than any other, the type of girl that makes you feel like you finally did something right and that you had finally found a light in the dark world you inhabit.

I shame myself for believing that this was to be any different. One might call me insane and in truth they would be right. The definition for insanity is to attempt the same thing over, and over, and over again and expect a different outcome each time. Which I have hoped, wished and bled for to happen but to no avail. Now as I sit here and type this, I feel like the darkness has warmed me considerably. Like it is the only love I can find.

I do not say that this is the only reason why I allow myself to give, for it is not. Countless things have amassed behind this tough, calm, rugged exterior and slowly it has built. That one last straw caused that exterior to crack then shatter, letting whatever else to slam into the warm, vulnerable heart beneath.

My search and purpose of this paper is not the look for pity or hope but to set the record straight as to what a depressed “emo” teenager thinks. We have simply given up, clinging with those last few fingers to stay in this life. Some of use fall, commit suicide and cease to exist. Others are saved by a kindred spirit or an event. Yet others, like me, cling on that ledge hoping someone would smile warmly and gather us up and show us the light of this world, whatever it may be.

It is a dream that all of us share, just not in the same form. It is a solemn hope for us and what a hopeful promise from someone else. Just remember this when you view a sad, forlorn child or teenager. They do not hate the world, they hope for it to ease whatever pain they may have.


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