Depression is a hard feeling to go through. It’s hard enough when people try to push you through depression, and it’s making it worse. Depression starts out as you become “sad”; you feel like you want to cry, like you feel broken. The next symptom is when a person doesn’t want to do what they used to like; they became distasteful to it and want nothing to do with it. It only becomes harder for the people around them. Parents don’t always see this. They try to make everything better. It doesn’t always work like that. Then they are having a hard time sleeping or they’re sleeping too much. The next step is becoming restless.  Agitated really easily. They lose energy. They start feeling like they’re not good enough for anyone, that they are worthless.

“Brain fog” as they call it, happens when they can’t think. They feel like they should end it all by thinking of suicide, but they don’t have a complete plan on how they should end it.
I’m Taylor Rose, and this is how I got over my depression. My story starts out as a random beginning. The “demon” did take over, and it messed with my life badly.
I was 13 when people realized I was depressed. That I was having a hard time, my real mom was making me lose weight, and just because she thought I was too fat. Making me feel worthless. My brother, made it worse at school for me. It got so bad his friends started slamming me into walls. That’s when I realized I just wanted it all to end; I tried to end it all; I went to the bathroom and started to cut down words, the most effective. My old friend came looking for me, and saw what I that was cutting; they tried to get me to stop; I did, but that day they went to the school counselor and told them what happened. I had fought and fought, but they wouldn’t let me just go back home to my dad’s, because they had social services come and hold me against my will, plus they said if I wouldn’t talk to a cop they were going to call social services and well they did.
When I tried to run away they picked me up and carried me to a chair, then held me down, like I was some wild animal.
I was forced to ride with my real mom, and she kept trying to guilt me into staying with her.
Once I got home I knew that was the day I was going to be free, I was getting rid of the things people said and did. Freedom of the mental abuse. I still had hard times, I still worked hard to fix myself. I moved into my dad’s house I was happy that I got out of that place. I got to be with my dad and my step-mom who was considered my real mom; to be honest was a real mom to me, and we started our own little family.
My dad was angry that my real mother knew I was depressed, and yet she never told him. She knew I was cutting, and yet she let me continue being depressed and never tried to help me. My dad was having a hard time coping, because he just found out about all of this. My step-mom was crying, telling me “What happens if you succeeded, why you would want to make the people who love you to death, suffer”.
My dad was a truck driver, so that was the night my dad was pushing to get home faster. Just to get to our house faster. He worked hard, just to come home.
They took everything sharp away, and watched me. Even though I just wanted to be alone, they never left to be alone. The trust was gone, but it was better than going to a mental home; in my opinion.
When I was 14 I started a new school. It was fun and it was a new start for me. I tried being myself. On the first day I met new friends and we still hang out to this day. But I still wasn’t “happy” you could say. I still felt that I wasn’t good enough, so if I morphed into someone else maybe I’ll feel happier. 15, I started dressing different, and making myself feel better. Faking my smiles so people couldn’t see through it. I still was made fun of for being different, I wore black every day, always hid my face that if I couldn’t see them they couldn’t see my imperfections. That there would be a way to hide all my faults even if it meant that I was going to be different.
There was an emptiness that I wanted to fill, I wanted to feel wanted that I was loved. When I dated they made me feel worse, they made me wish that I could be loved by someone, even if it meant that it was a bad relationship.
During this time my past came back, my real mother tried to get custody of me, she still is trying but she doesn’t have a clue what she is saying.
By sophomore year I was depressed once again, I started pushing people out of my life once again, I lost lots of friends because I was always getting mad easily and yelling, and getting into fights with them. But that’s when the true friends came along. That’s how it helped me slowly, realizing that I had people that cared that wanted me, and they are the only ones I want.
One more thing that helped me was following my singing dream, I do covers now, and I do what helps me. I still have depression, but I am happy were I have made it today, if that one old friend haven’t found me then.
Here is my advice, you are amazing no matter what, if your different that’s ok. Everyone has a person that helps them that gets them through the things that no one else will understand. Be beautiful in your own way. Work up to your dreams, don’t let every little thing get in your way, pass through those obstacles.
And Remember, Be beautiful, be amazing, and just be you…..