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I’ve been thinking of how I was going to let this all out. Let everyone know that no, I did not drop of school. No, I didn’t quit. No, I am not a failure. Not that it’s anyone’s business but my own.

I am not graduating this May. I will be going back to school in the fall for half a day to finish up then be done after term one. I have no regrets for this decision for it is the best for me. You might think it’s because I’m lazy and don’t want to go to school or that I’m just dumb and can’t pass classes. That’s not it. Not it at all.

I’ve always been a good student. I did my work, studied. Made the grades in middle school and my first semester of freshman year. About March of freshman year, everything seemed to go downhill. I was fighting a war with myself. Everyday was a struggle to get up and go to school. To get up and not just lay in bed. To get up and live. I wanted to die. There is no easy way to put that. 

Sophomore year, it got worse. I backed away from my friends. Shunned them. Ignored their calls, texts, ims, postings on my facebook walls. I even found ways to get out of going to their birthday parties. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry. Sophomore year came and went, but that summer proved to be the worst. I stayed in my room and just blocked myself off from everyone. I became this person my own mother hated and my younger brother feared. I hated it and who I had become. Even my best friend couldn’t recognize who I had become and it frightened her.

Upon starting my Junior year of high school, I believe the monster inside of me started winning. She was showing herself more often. I became this rude, horrible person only Satan could love. I was rude to my family. Rude to my friends. Rude to anyone who talked to me. I blew off school in order to stay home. I just didn’t care. I wanted to die. That April my grandfather died. That made matters worse. As the school year ended, I thought I was better. I wasn’t. I was lying to myself. Everyday last summer I woke up with thoughts of how to kill myself. How could I get away with it. I had this huge plan set out of how I was going to do it. To this day I don’t remember why I didn’t 

But, as usual, school started again. For a few months, I was fantastic. Went to school, hung out with friends. Then my mother got sick and I crashed. I was this rude person again. This monster inside of me was back. She was winning again. She was going to make sure that my life was a living hell. 

This monster, she stopped me from doing things I loved. She stopped me from being who I truly am. I would sit in my room on the weekends and just cry. About nothing. About everything. This monster made life unbearable for me. 

In the past 3 1/2 years I can truly say I haven’t been happy. I’ve been fighting an internal battle of choosing to live or not. I may look happy on the outside, but on the inside I’m screaming for help. A couple weeks ago, I decided that enough was enough and reached out to my mom. She took me to the doctor where I was diagnosed with depression. Now, I’m medicated and I feel like the real me is out. Not that rude, hateful bitch my friends all think I am. The real me. The me that loves being with family, watching movies, even going outside and enjoying the nice weather. 

I would give anything to go back three or even four years and not have to fight this war with myself. To be happy. To have a normal high school experience instead of locking myself up and showing no emotion towards anything or anyone.