Depression Our Deep Dark Journey Through It
Depression it’s the topic for this post and with it being that time of year again, people are laughing and sharing their stories from past Christmases. What about those that aren’t feeling so joyous? Those whose every holiday that comes up is nothing but pure DREAD! So this post is dedicated to you homies, to show our scars and share evidence that they heal. In the throws of your nightmare – we’re here to tell you it can get better, no matter how bad it is.
Journey through my deep dark places, through depression, and then other members of the True Juggalo Staff will weigh in on how they coped with their depression. All I ask is for love, understanding, and for absolutely NO judgement. Everything that I will be pouring out, is 100% true and things that have happened to me in the past. And it’s all for you homies.
Thinking back about my past, it has been difficult for me to open up to and been hard for me to pour my heart out to people. Then I sat back and thought, if I can JUST pour my heart out, maybe – just maybe I can help someone else out who is need. My life wasn’t always so glamorous, nor was it always perfect. Since the age of nine I have been battling severe depression. and strug Life’s ups and downs are such a struggle.
Growing up I had a lot of things. I had plenty of toys, clothes, my own TV, even PlayStation with ALL the coolest games. We had a computer, cable and went to school everyday clean. We had food on the table, we had a bed to sleep in and a roof over our heads. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking, “Seriously, what in the HELL could you be depressed about?” Well, I haven’t gotten to that part just yet.
While we did have all of those great things in life, we also had a grandparent who was so completely mean to us, that made me just wanted to escape my reality and go away. Multiple times throughout my life, my grandmother made it a point to make our lives hell. Now, I don’t know why she did what she did, or why she treated us the way she did, but she did. She used to tell me all the time that I would never make anything of myself, that I would be a waste of space like my mother. She told me that I would be a fat cow like my aunt and that I would never amount to anything. Remind you, I was only 7 years old and being told that I would be fat and that I would be nothing.
Well, let’s stop and reflect on what was going on around me, what contributed to my depression. My parents fought ALL the time growing up, so I really don’t remember a happy time when they were together. My parents got divorced when I was just 6 years of age. After my parents got divorced, something happened that led to my little brother and I living with our dad. That was great and all, but when you have a grandparent who was mean to you and your brother, you felt like you were living in PURE HELL!
What is a child supposed to think and feel at that time? I thought that I would grow up to actually be nothing and I would grow up to be a fat cow. Hell, that shit scarred me for life and still to this day, when I look in the mirror I see nothing but a fat cow. At times I feel like I would never amount to anything and that I am worthless but I am FAR from that. But I am getting ahead of myself, so let me get back on track here for a moment lol.
Growing up in a life where you were told constantly you were fat, watching your little brother get spoon fed sugar because he was sneaking a little bite of sugar. Then trying to grab the phone so you can call your Dad to tell him the horror that you are going through only to have the phone snatched out of your hand and her telling your Dad that everything was OK. That was the start of my depression, and from there it just excelled even further.
I finally got to the age to where I decided that I wanted to live with my mom, so I talked it over with my dad and my mom and told them that I was ready to move in with my mom. I wanted to escape from the hell and torture that I was enduring everyday of my young life. Prior to wanting to move in with my mom, I was getting picked on in school, I was called fat, ugly, stupid, etc… I had attempted suicide before I moved in with my mom. I grabbed a belt from my Dad’s room and hung it around my bedpost and tried to hang myself. That’s when I realized that that was a stupid idea to try and commit suicide so I just let it go from there.
Well, I moved in with my mom and things were getting better for me. I was in a different school and I had different people around me. They were all cool and they had a different attitude than what I was used to at my elementary. I met a girl who moved to Grand Prairie during the summer. We hit it off and became the best of friends. Her and I were basically inseparable. Mind you, this was back in like 1999 so things were different back then. We actually walked to each others house before and after school. She (surprisingly) introduced me to Insane Clown Posse. (She heard Boogie Woogie on the radio and told me that she thinks that I would like it, so I made it a point to find that song). Time went on, we stopped being friends and I gained a whole new set of friend who were into the same thing that I was into.
I was into the whole ‘goth’ scene. I wanted nothing but black clothes and hang around the badass gothics/freaks. They were my type of people to be around. Secretly I was still hurting inside and I was crying from my heart, but I was such a badass that I didn’t show it. As I grew up with those people, I start to experiment with drugs and sex. I started smoking pot when I was 11 years old, having sex when I was 13, getting into harder drugs to try and cope with my depression. I hung out with a girl that lived down the street from me. She was hot and she introduced me to trying sex with girls. I actually liked that shit, and said fuck it. I like women and who ever doesn’t like it can piss off.
Little did I know that everything that I was trying and getting myself into, it was just fueling the flames to my depression. I was so depressed that when she came in the bedroom, she had a shit ton of different pills. She handed me some pills to try and my philosophy back then was, You try it first, if it didn’t kill you, then I will take it. That’s when I knew I was addicted to pills. God, all the different types of pills that was handed to me. I just told her, you take it first, and then I’d wait a little bit, and then I would take it. Then I met my another girl at a teen club and her and I hit it off and we started to hang out and get close. She instantly became my best friend and her and we started doing drugs together, running away, sneaking out at night and just being little terrors.
Years passed by and she introduced me to something even harder. She introduced me to speed. That was my favorite drug to take. I instantly became addicted to speed and the rush that it gave me. She and I ran up and down the streets acting all kinds of crazy and wild because of the speed. Months went by and she brought to me some more speed to try. I didn’t do it because it didn’t look like the kind of speed that I was used to. This had blue specks and I wasn’t about to snort AJAX. So, I just turned it away and never looked back for some years. After I had given up speed, I thought life was getting somewhat better. I was now in high school, 9th grade to be exact. I was smoking cigarettes full time, I was getting high before and after school. I was failing in all my classes all because my depression was starting to kick into high gear.
9th grade was when I started cutting. Every time I felt sadness, I drug the knife against my skin and it relived my pain for a little bit of time. I got engaged at the age of 14 to my then boyfriend, everything was supposed to be a happy time for me. I was wrong, oh so very wrong. Things happened and he and I split up, I lost my girlfriend, I lost everything that I cared about all at once. I was almost raped, and then I was raped after I moved on from my fiance to another guy that I thought I could trust. I was pushed in front of a car, and I was pushed on, abused. I had to end that relationship as fast as I could. So I lied and told him that I was pregnant just so I can push him away.
When we moved out of Grand Prairie and out to the country, I had no one to talk to or to confide in. My depression was eating me alive and there was nothing that I could do to stop it. I still smoked weed, I tried ecstasy for the first time, I got pregnant, and more things were torn away from me. Little did I know, that the things that were happening to me, were all for the better. At that time however, I didn’t care. All I knew was that my life was being ripped apart from the seams.I still would cut here and there and I would use the knife to dull my pain that was increasing on the inside. Then I had to move again, so I ended up back to my dad’s house. I was battling my demons and trying to raise a baby all at once. So cutting was no longer an option and neither was doing drugs. I was now focused on my baby and making sure he was OK.
I stayed in school and completed high school, and I decided to move back in with my mom after living with my Dad for a few months. I was getting bored at home, and I had nothing to do. So when my mom asked my best friend to move in with us to help with my niece. That was the highlight of my life! We did everything together, we went everywhere together. Then I got back in touch with my best friend from years prior. I made my way to Irving and we started to get back in touch with people that we haven’t spoken with in a very long time. There I met my now ex husband, who told me all the right things. Again little did I know, my depression and craving to be with someone who loved me was all apart of this twisted little game.
He and I got together and it was all fun and games until he started abusing me, calling me names and treating me like trash. I thought to myself, ‘I must deserve this some how?‘. Then came the tears and the knife again. The blade felt so wonderful dragging it over and over again across my skin. I was writing daily in my many journals that I kept for when I needed to drown, but the knife was must mightier than the pen.
That is when my life became a nightmare that I couldn’t escape. The man who I called my “husband” (not legally married Thank God!) decided to sell me to a three different drug dealers for $10.00 thing of crack. Yes, I know what you are thinking; “God you are disgusting, why didn’t you just leave?” Little did I know what was going on until it happened. These men were BIG men, and I was all of 125 lbs at the time. What was I supposed to do? After all of that happened to me, I went outside and threw up and contemplated suicide even more. I was living on the 5 floor of a high rise at the time, and looking over the railings and thinking, just JUMP! No one will miss you, no one will care if you’re gone. JUST JUMP!But there was a little voice that over came those other demons and told me no. You have three kids now, you can’t just leave them behind. There is much more in life for you, just get past this and move on.
My ex moved in with his brother because we got into a huge fight. I gave up at that time and couldn’t handle it anymore. So I contacted my ex step dad and asked him to come and pick me up. He came and picked me up and I moved in with him and his wife to New Mexico. Hey, I was far away and no one could tell me anything. I was FINALLY getting back on the right track. Well, I got in contact with a guy that I messed around with for years prior to me moving out to New Mexico and prior to me moving in with my “Husband.” This man was a wonderful man, but being around what I went through I never gave him a chance. I was scared to death to do anything and scared that he would be the same. Little did I know that man would be the best thing to EVER happen to me.
He asked me to come back to Dallas to be with him. I had some money, and decide to buy a plane ticket to go see him. We did our thing for a little while and I got in touch with another friend from high school, and found out a guy that I got into contact with while I was on one of my little disappearances from my “Husband.” She told me that he wanted to hang out with me, so I contacted him and did our thing for a little bit. Then while we were doing our thing I moved in with him and his parents. We got into a HUGE fight and he started to abuse me. I NEVER once hit him, slapped him or anything. All I have ever done, was shove him away from me so he would leave me alone! That was the time that the knife became my best friend again. This time I had to hide it from him, I started cutting my thighs.
This was the two years of my life that was just pure hell! He abused me, mentally, sexually, physically, and emotionally. Again I was back living in pure hell! I met some GREAT Juggalos when I was with him, and I had met embraced my Juggalo side even further. But the depression came back, writing was helping some, and yet it seemed the blade did more for me. No one knew my pain, my struggle, and nor my depression. I have talked about it, but it seems like NO ONE listened to me. It seemed like no one cared about me or my feelings. I didn’t turn back to drugs, but I turned back to the knife. Things got worse from there, then he decided to move in with this girl that he was seeing behind my back. He would lie to me saying that everything would be ok, but in reality, it was just a another lie.
Finally, the final straw was broken and it was time for me to just break it off. I couldn’t take the pain any more, I couldn’t take the depression any more. So I finally moved on with my life, and got back in touch with the same guy I stupidly gave up on years earlier. The man that I am with now, is now my husband. He treats me like a queen, he brings me up when I feel like my world is crashing down on me. My husband is my rock, my soulmate, my better half. Without him, I know I wouldn’t have made it through the rough times. With him, I no longer need a knife to dull the pain, I no longer need cigarettes to help ease stress and anger. With him he keeps me grounded, and I don’t need to write anymore.
Well, I still write, because I am here today. I had so many up’s and down’s in my life, but I conquered my depression slowly. I went to multiple psychiatrists, I was prescribed MULTIPLE medications, I took sleeping pills, anti-depressants, and therapy. I have gone through countless notebooks, more than enough scars and several drug filled nights. Talking it out to people have never worked for me, I was either judged upon, or hated against. I was left in the dark, and felt like there was no one there for me. My husband now doesn’t give me that worry, he doesn’t make me depressed, and he is always there for me when I needed him the most. I have faced my depression and my demons head on, but I have pushed forward and fought a long hard battle and FINALLY I won. I have wrote in my journals, I have cut myself, and I have abused drugs. But once I realized that I had strength to push forward, I pushed and keep pushing until I found happiness. I moved away from those bad things in my life, I walked away from all the pain. I realized what is going on in my life and I decided it was time for me to pick up the pieces and keep fighting.
I no longer need pills to keep me happy, I no longer need the cool touch of the blade against my skin, I no longer need to think suicide was my option to get out. I have a job, kids, my husband that I need to live for. I have happiness in my life and again and as long as I look forward to the happiness, I know I will be OK. No not everyone will have the same help as me, but having someone to actually help you through life’s difficulties helps out tremendously. Knowing that you have a better life ahead of you can help you get through that hard time. If you feel suicidal, just message someone close to you whom you can confide in. Whether it is one of us, a friend, a family member, a counselor, or the suicide hotline. Just know that we are all here for you and we love each and everyone of you.
This story was written with the sole purpose to help out those in need as well as to open up to those whom need to know how we handled depression throughout the times that we were feeling depressed.
If you or someone you know is thinking about Suicide, contact the number below for help