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I remember when I was first officially diagnosed with depression. Now, it’s been a struggle since childhood but it all came crashing down when the police came to my school in November of 2001. That sounds way more overdramatic than it was.

It was, as I said, November of 2001. I was 14 years old. I lived with my emotionally abusive father. I attended a small (seriously small – 30 kids prek-11) private Christian school. I had just changed churches that summer. I didn’t have many friends. And that was when I immersed myself in message boards.

You see, it was a world where I was just a face behind a keyboard. It was a world where I could be myself. Without parents, without people judging me for being the kid with the speech impediment, the girl with braces. But I was foolish (or was I smart?) and gave out way too much personal information…

Which is how the police came to my school. I was suicidal. I wanted my life to be over. I was 14 years old. I had been abused by my father since I was four years old. And I was done. A concerned friend managed to track me down, hence the police showing up at my high school.

14 sucked. I started cutting that year. I started my medication roulette. I watched my world fall apart. And I’m still picking up those pieces. I’m still playing medication roulette. Yes, I’ve been trying to find an antidepressant that doesn’t make my life suck since I was FOURTEEN. I’ve been on every SSRI. I’ve been on SNRIs. I’ve been on atypical antidepressants. TCA anti depressants. IT. SUCKS.

I’m no longer suicidal – my last time was two years ago (another blog entry for that). I’m no longer cutting, that was four years ago. But I’m still crippled with depression. I’m still playing Medication Roulette. And I wonder if it’ll ever be over.

Will it? I hope so.

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