How I finally cured myself from depression

Its 4am, and I can't fucking sleep. It's typical you know, I just have a mind that won't always stop going when I tell it to. Nothing new. I got it from my Dad. Not the only terrible trait that was passed from his genes to mine. Thank goodness he had a hell of a lot of goodness I got too.

Anyways, I think it's time I type this. I've always had a talent for writing, but I'm just not a very self-motivated person. I think if I do this right, I can help some of you. It's long, and if you don't have time to read it all then I don't read any of it.

If you're depressed, you probably need to read this. It might go down as the longest post ever recorded on GC though. No apologies for the length though, it's just time I do this.

Let's start from the very begining.

Junior High was rough for me (grades 7-9). I was popular in grade school, but in Junior High I was kind of hit with a realization I didn't take very well : I'm not a "hot" guy. This fucked with my head pretty bad. I don't know why, but I valued being being attractive A LOT. Probably because that is what this society has come to. At present moment, i'm 6-0 170 with freckles. I'm not ugly. My resume speaks for itself.

I was always a class clown in gradeschool, and it allowed me to chill with girls that were hotter than me. In Junior High my antics weren't as well recieved. Oh yes, I got more than my share of laughs, but I wasn't the popular kid anymore.

I always felt like junior high kind of took something out of me. I was always so talkative as a kid. Like, I'd never shut the fuck up. But during Junior High I was kind of trained to not talk and bitch so much. It kind of made me more of an introverted person.

This was not visible on the outside. I still had many friends, and a couple really close ones, something everybody needs.

Getting off track.

In highschool it was all good. I had some rough times, and because of my mindset I'd always let the little things really bother me. I trulyl believe it effected the relationship I had with my friends. What guy want's another friend that gets all soft when you make fun of him? Oh, it was fine and well when I laughed my ass of at making fun of them, but when they would make fun of me back, I took it to heart. I don't know why. I shouldn't have. But I did. And I think it made them respect me less for it.

This is when I started feeling the first creepings of depression. I didn't have a lot of friends, but I had my share. But I always noticed little things like, my friends were really popular, but a lot of the friends they had weren't friends with me. After a while, it became rather hard to ignore.

I had crushes here and there, nothing really of note. I even had a girl who was just OK fall for me pretty hard core because of my personality, I guess I still had some flare before I clammed up.

But I was and am too picky, and I never got with her. Even if she was at my level looks wise, I wasn't going to settle.

I felt somewhat alienated at times. My best friends turned on me somewhat. My very best friend always stood by me, but even he started doing a lot of things without me. It was a snowball effect. Being left out hurts like a bitch and makes you act different. Acting different gets you left out more.
You see how it goes.

I had one extremely traumatic event happen to me in the 10th grade that I feel is absolute necessity to note. I'm not sure what impact it had on me in the grand scheme of things, but it is something I can only try to forget, but never will. My parents had just bought a brand new 2003 chevy impala. My dad is a CHEAP ASS, simple as that. The man just does not like to spend money, and it's beyond being a pennypincher, he's just fucking cheap.
Well, he's with me the first time I see it. It's a really nice looking impala, alloy rims, beautiful dark red shiny color (easily the best color they offered for the model, not that obnoxious bright red). Well the first time I see it, for whatever reason I say something along the lines of, "It's just like all the other cars, there are a million cars like that out" and there were, they were a pretty popular car.

Well, my Dad absolutely loses it. Completely freaks out. Believe it or not, I can't remember if he gripped me up or not, it's not something I think about often, but I imagine he got physical with me in some manner. Says I'm an ungrateful piece of shit, yada, yada, the works. I try and try and try to explain to him "DAD I REALLY LIKE IT I DIDN'T MEAN WHAT YOU THOUGHT I MEANT" but the pig headed faggot wouldn't listen. He was REALLY fucking pissed, and so was my mom.

And in truth, I have no reason to lie to you guys now, I didn't mean anything bad by it. I really liked the car, in fact I still fucking do. in fact! I was trying to get my mom to trade it with me for my 2002 hyundai just a few weeks ago!

I think he grounded me and didn't talk to me for a couple days. He was so pissed. My Dad is not the type of person to hold grudges at all, and I still don't know if he forgave me for that.
When it happened I was so grief stricken that when I got home I just laid in bed for about 3 hours crying and crying and crying.
I'm getting choked up thinking about it. I've only felt that bad a few times in my life. I realized while it was happening that I was kind of having a nervous break down type of deal.

Life went on.

So I reach my senior year of highshcool. For the most part, the depression is pretty dormant. I don't even really recognize it as depression. I just kind of see myself as a very thoughtful person with a generally negative outlook on life.

Well, out of the clear fucking blue a girl I had always liked since like the first time (we'll call her Sandy) I met her tells my one best friend girlfriend, we'll call her Olive (oh yes, there is more to come about Olive, and as a side not she was my first sexual experience two years before this happened), to tell me she broke up with her boyfriend of 3 years. So of course, I tell Olive I'm all over this. Tell Sandy I want to chill.

So, long story short. We chill. I spit game. I get girl.

Now at first, I didn't even really like Sandy. She was nice, but... i'm pretty fucked up in the head and I wasn't falling for her. About three months into the relationship and I've seen the kind of true person she is, and quite frankly, I don't like it. She embodies so many of the things I hate most about people. She's an only child (like me), and is SELFISH AS ALL FUCKING HELL.

But I did something I swore I'd never do again, I stuck with her because of the sex. I liked the sex. The head was the best I had ever recieved, and to this day is the best I have ever gotten.

And I think I was punished for this by karma. For staying with a girl i didn't really like purely for sexual reasons, I ended up getting it back twice as bad.

During this time, I have good days and bad days. Even when i was with her and all was good, I would wake up in the morning before school and take a shower and just think - it's all bad, it's all fucking bad - and I'd literally go over everything in my mind and about how every aspect of my life was bad. Everything. Including the my fucked up relationship with a fucked up girl that I fell i was falling in love with for all the wrong reasons (attachment, sex).


You see, Sandy was my first real girlfriend. And after a while you get attached. Well don't you fucking know it, about 4/5 months into the relationship I'm in love. We still have fights all the time, and I broke up with her about 20 times, but she just WOULDN'T leave me alone when I'd dump her and I'd always give her a second chance.


We plan on going to the same college and everything.


Well, wouldn't you fucking know it, I fuck up royally one time, and Sandy never forgives me. She was acting funny one summer day at her house, I KNEW something was up. (turns out there was, my perception skills are fucking ridiculously good). Well we get in a fight and I tell her I'm leaving.
Well she freaks out grabs my arm won't let me in my car etc. Tells me straight up - if you leave i'll never talk to you again - multiple times.
Well, I leave. I figure she's full of shit and I can get her back if I want.

Wrong. That very fuckin weekend she goes out and bangs another dude she had been talking to for a grip at work and falls insanely in love with him. (she's a fucking psychotic, trust me, and I knew this wayyyy before this shit happened because she basically did the same shit with me).

Long story short, I try everything I can but I can't get Sandy back. She changes her choice of schools and we go our seperate ways.

This is when the depression really deepened like never before. I lost weight in the summer because I literally could not eat. This is when I first tried weed. My lifelong friend, Dick we'll call him, had smoked his whole life, but I never even tried it. When I first told him I wanted to, he literally didn't believe it was me on AIM. I had to tell him stuff so he would believe I was telling him this.
I just needed something to divert my mind from Sandy, and I was willing to try something new.
I tried it, and enjoyed it. It was a fun thing to do on the late night tip on the summer before going to college. I had been thinking about trying it for a long time before this, it was not purely a reaction to the breakup.

Life goes on.

I head to college, something I had been desperately looking forward to my entire life. I couldn't WAIT to get the fuck outta my house. I had loving parents, but they were TOO demanding, too suffocating, and in general never backed off when I made it apparent it was time to back off because they were losing the love from their son. I was a 3.5 student throughout highschool, and only got in trouble a few times for fighting.

Well, here's something else you need to know. When I got with Sandy in highschool, I started basically hanging out with exclusively her. My friends and I started to go our seperate ways, because coincidentally they all got girlfriends around the same time too. I also decided I wanted to go to a college that none of my friends were going to, because I wanted to start over. I was tired of my "friends" from high school.

So I get to college and I'm all socially backward. Perhaps that's not the right terminology, more like, I'm extremely self conscious, and had little to no self esteem. I could still interact quite well when put on the spot, because I've always had some social background. On the surface I was same old primetime, but inside I was dying, and at first it was only too apparent in my social life.

I actually got homesick the first 2 months or so at college, something I never ever ever ever expected. Didn't make many friends.

But thankfully, I had some really good friends fall into my lap. Suitemates (2 dudes)are popular dudes who are stoners. I become really good friends with them and we start smoking together every night.

I meet another kid too. Great kid. A very popular girl too.

We all become friends, and I meet a ton of new friends. You get the idea.


But I still feel depression lagging under me. I think this is when I start first contemplating suicide. I think I may have thought about it from time to time in highschool, but never like this.
Despite my new found wealth of friends, I still miss Sandy, I still miss having a girlfriend.But it's not only that, it's just that overall sense that life sucks and then you die.

Second semester freshman year, I fuck up royally. While drunk I steal a shot of liquor with a girl I was fooling with from my suitemates. Well, they bust me and I go running out of the room.

Here's how drunk I was, I forgot I even did it. So the next week when they're acting weird, then they finally just come out that they are pissed at me for stealing from them I get pissed as hell!
I get mad saying its bullshit, fuck them for even ACCUSING me of such a thing, they should KNOW i wouldn't do it.

Well, turns out 2 months later I'm telling the girl I was with that night how me and my suitemates don't talk anymore because they think I stole their liquor and she drops the bomb on me that we did steal a shot from them.

You can imagine how I felt. ugh.

I sincerely apologize to them both. They accept the apology, but things are never the same. They were kind of the same, but it just wasn't the same. I don't even blame them taht much really... they trusted me and I betrayed their trust.

Along this time I also get drunk another night and freak out at the popular girl I was friends with, and that changes our relationship forever. I say popular because she's a blonde bombshell, but her best quality is probably her kindness. Old asshole primetime fucks that up.

The entire time while this is happening I'm dying inside. Contemplating suicide on a daily basis and turning to the bottle to save me. It got to the point where if I wasn't drunk, I'd lay awake all night thinking about how fucked up I am and how bad life sucks and how I should just kill myself.

Realize, that nobody knows this. Nobody has even an inkling that I'm depressed as fuck and on the verge of killing myself. I still interact with everybody else the same as always, and I'm still same old primetime on the surface. But in the room, by myself, it was like I was treading water in the deep part of the swimming pool getting ever so much closer to tiring out and drowning. Right before I'd drown, I'd reach out to the ledge, to the bottle.




My entire life I had struggled with religion. It was a constant problem for me. How could people be so stupid to believe the bible!? I'd ask myself, without ever coming out and saying it, because even though it was true, it's also highly offensive. Instead I'd phrase it differently, but with the same point.
I got into many many debates about it with my friends. My favorite question to ask to the hesitant, ignorant, highschool classmate was as follows
"Do you believe in your religion?"
"Yes"
"Than every other religion is wrong"
"No that's not what I said"
"By saying your religion is right, you are indeed saying every one else's is wrong."

Pretty simple concept, but damn people HATED facing that conclusion.

I had some long heart to hearts with Sandy about it. She was very religious before she met me. I'd try to explain to her, it's not that I don't like Christianity, I wish I did believe in it because i see the comfort and joy it brings others, but I simply can't. Logically it has too many flaws. If I were to say I believed in it, I would be lying.

When we'd debate, she would never quite admit how right I was. But, the proof is still there today, i don't think she even goes to church anymore.

I tell you, one of the main reasons I'm not dead today is the uncertainty of what follows death. What if I was wrong, what if there is a hell?
At the end of freshman year, I decided to quit smoking for a while. Not permanantly, but just until I got my head on straight. I start off the summer working fulltime and excercising almost daily.

Then I meet a super sexy chick at a party, and wouldn't you know it, she likes me. Comes completely out of nowhere, but I take it and run. We dated throughout the summer, and physically it was great. Mentally, not so much.
You see, this sexy chick was sexy, and that's it. To such a thoughtful person like myself, she basically brought nothing else to the table. In fact, the other things she did bring were BAD. She was a complete follower bitch, and looked up to Olive (yes remember olive, i mentioned her earlier) so bad. Her and Olive were best friends. Olive is a dime, can get about any guy she wants, and sadly, knows it. She treats guys like SHIT. uses and abuses baby.
Well this sexy chick tried acting like that with me, which if you know me at all, you know it just aint happenin. So after a few disputes, and a few times of me telling this sexy bitch i don't want to talk to her anymore and her getting me to still date her, we finally go our seperate ways at the end of the summer.

During this time I get entirely fed up with Olive, a girl who I once would have taken a bullet for. Turns out this corrupted, backstabbing bitch keeps talking down about me to the sexy bitch, FOR NO FUCKING REASON. It's not the first time Olive has tried to fuck me for basically no reason, and it wouldn't be the last.

Throughout the summer depression is intermittent. I still can't shake it. Having troubles with the sexy girl only added to this anxiety. You see, I think a lot of my troubles with depression were rooted in my poor self esteem. Every time I'd land a decent chick, I'd think it was my last chance at a hot girl for the rest of my life!

On the whole, despite losing Sandy, despite battling with depression, it was and still probably is the best 12 month period of my life. From my freshman year to the end of the summer before sophomore year, I did more partying and made more friends and did more memorable shit than any other year period in my life.



I head back to school my sophomore year in good shape, still smokin baby, and feelin good about life in general. I shook up a couple of relationships the year before, but thankfully I still have a few good friends.

One of those good friends, we'll call him brant, got a girlfriend at the end of freshman year. Well, when sophomore year starts, he just doesn't seem like the same old brant from last year.
something was different about him, it was hard to put your finger on, but i wasn't the only one who noticed.

Anyways, life is great for the first half of the first semester, sophomore year. Depression simply is not a problem. But then things fall apart.

First, Brant is my suitemate this year instead of just living near me, so I see him constantly. My other suitemate, and his roomy, we'll call him Joe are lifelong friends.

Well, wouldnt you know it Brant starts stealing shit from Joe. Small stupid things, but things just the same. He also stole a few beers from me as well. I don't think you understand the magnitude of this unless you truly understand me as a person. Brant and I were extemely close, he was my best friend up there, and here he is stealing some of my beer. Beer I would have gladly given to him if he just asked.
It wasn't about stealing it was about a lack of respect.
Also, out of his paranoid manifestations, he comes up with this delusion that I liked his girlfriend.
It may or may not have been a result of the fact his girlfriend flirted with me a lot, and showed a lot of playful interest. I did not flirt back. Oh yes, I was friendly indeed, hell it's my best friends girlfriend of course I'm going to be nice and play along!
Well, somehow, he comes to the conclusion I like her.

And things start to fall apart. His relationship with Joe completely turns to shit, and his relationship with me does the same.

Long story short, Joe and I confront him about our problems with him. We get everything off our chest. We tell brant to tell us what we did wrong to him so we can hopefully repair this situation.

He acts like a bitch, nothing gets solved despite repeated efforts from me to talk to him man to man about it. He just lies about everything.

We have to kick him out of the lodge because no one wants to room wit him.


I can't tell you how much I contemplated this decision. I did everything I could but Brant basically forced us to do this.

I haven't talked to him since.

Meanwhile, for various reasons, my relationship with my suitemates from my freshman year completely deteriorates.


Second semester sophomore year is hell. I make one great new friend in Joe, who I think I'll be friends with for the rest of my life. But besides that, all is bad.

I slip into a devastating depression. My grades begin to suffer. My social life is only marginal, and I once again turn to getting drunk or high every single night so I can quiet the demons and sleep peacefully.

I do much religous thinking and come to the realization that life means nothing. We really have no ultimate purpose as species, we just: are. I don't handle this well. I find myself skipping classes and taking showers so I can ball my eyes out.

my grades are slipping
my social life is suffering
the university impliments a suffocating new alcohol policy that puts a major chokehold on parties around campus
the weather here is constantly awful, if it's not snowing and dark, it's raining and dark
i'm even starting to lose my hair

Suicide is a very real option. I find myself one night while in a drunken stupor doing some google research on the easiest way to kill yourself. I shudder and turn of the monitor and go to bed.

Every day is a struggle. I hate waking up. Sleeping is the pinnacle of daily life.

One week I have a Finance test approaching. Finance is important because it's my planned concentration for my business major. The day for the test keeps growing nearer and nearer, but seriously who gives a fuck? Who fucking cares, what does it ultimately matter anyways? Nothing.
So I keep pushing studying back. Finally the night before the exam comes, it's typical primetime crunch time, but depression is on in full force.

So instead of studying I'll just drink. I'll get up early tomorrow and study before the test.

I wake up the next morning hungover and miserable. I go to breakfast and pull out my finance notes and immediately realize all is lost. I waited too long, regardless if I study now, I will fail the Finance test.

This reinstills the pain. I decide, I'm going to kill myself.

Then, I decide otherwise. Is killing myself what I really wanted? yes, probably. But what about Mom?

I owed it to my mom to at least try to beat depression one last time.

I go to the schools resident depression counselor and just completely fucking spill my guts. I tell him EVERYTHING, I ball my eyes out and tell him my views of religion and god. He tries telling me to read this book about a different way to look at god, a more intelligent way that intelligent people like him and me can really understand. I tell him I'm sorry, but I just don't buy it, but I'll try it (I never did).
He gives me a test to test how depressed I was. No surprise, I scored "severly depressed" and I was over the line by many many points.
He recommends I see a doctor and get medication.



Well, after all this, I finally break the news to my parents. Those two poor naive soles, they had no idea the hell I had been going through. I can only imagine how they felt when I told them their son is severely depressed, and hinted that I was suicidal without coming out and saying it.

And worst part is, TELLING THEM MADE IT EVEN WORSE. MY PARENTS HAD DONE SO MUCH FOR ME, I FELT SOOOOOOOOOOOOO BAD ABOUT BEING DEPRESSED. I knew it was going to cause them to worry terribly, and this made me feel really bad. I knew it was going to be extremely hard for them, and that made it even harder on me.

they were extremely sympathetic, and vowed to do whatever they possibly could to help me.


That's when my Dad changed forever. I can only imagine what was going on in that man's head. He probably lost sleep for weeks. I told them it wasn't there fault. It wasn't. But saying it wasn't partially my Dad's fault would just be a lie.




So I got on the meds. I expressed my conern to the doctor, "But Doc, it's not like this is curing the depression, it's just covering it up, it's just making me forget about the problems, it doesn't solve them." And his response was - yea... but if you do it in conjunction with seeing a therapist it usually fixes the problem.

I saw a therapist once, that is all. She was nice, but useless. It went basically how I had envisioned.




The meds worked. At first I felt nothing, but I felt better all the same because hey, at least I was finally addressing this depression problem that had plagued me off and on for as long as I could remember.
Then, after time, I started to be able to feel the drug. It's extremely subtle, but you can feel that there is something else in your system.

Doc told me to take them once a day for a year.

This is also when I was blessed with thisbookhttp://www.amazon.com/Spiritual-Path-Buddha-Zen-Tantra/dp/B000WOTQN6

OSHO: Buhda, Zen, Tao and Tantra

It's not quite what you think. It's more a philosophy book than a religious book, although OSHO would probably kill me for writing that! Probably because philosophy is a loaded term, we're not talking Kant and DeCartes here, we're talking life.
The first 1/4 of the book was downright profound. Nothing preachy at all about it, just the facts baby. I was simply in awe of this man OSHO, he was saying things I had been thinking my whole life, only he articulated them PERFECTLY. And I had never heard or seen anyone else with these similar views to mine before!
It was downright glorious. ENLIGHTENING EVEN.

Once you get about 3/4 of the way through the book it starts to get preachy, and loses the spirit of the first half of the book.

Osho showed me it was OK that we as people are just biological specs. Meaning is something far different than what I had first perceived.


I began to finally become the person I wanted to be. I had a clear definition of the adult I would become. I understood what I was doing in life. I understood me.








Summer arrives again. Ahhh sweet summer. No better season. I start talking to the sexy bitch again. What can I say? I wasn't getting any pussy and she's hot!

Well, same old same old really. Olive is a backstabbing cunt, sexy bitch is an annoying lying bitch, and my good friend who I first smoked weed with, my lifelong friend dick, the highschool drop out pothead is the same coniving, lying, loser as always. Oh isn't it grand how I speak of my "friends"?

Well. They aren't friends anymore. You see, this is one of my keys to liberation.

Somehow, some way, us 4 are back together again, just like last summer. Olive just broke up with Dick, but Olive is still banging Dick even though she has another boyfriend, and even though Dick is still hopelessly in love with her.


We all decide to go to Ocean City together for vacation. The writing was on the wall before we left though, I kind of new it was going to be a defining trip. And defining it was.

We go, and I'm not getting any pussy from sexy bitch. And I know it's because that bitch Olive talked to her before we went and sexy bitch is afraid to do anything in front of olive.

Beyond that, I'm just not meshing with the 3. We're having fun, but the feeling of difference between us is palpable, at least for me anyway.

You see, I pride myself on being a good, honest person. And well,quite frankly, these 3 people are 3 of the most lying, cheating people I have ever met. It was simple, I just didn't like them as people.

And the time came to finally say it, and I did. It was emotional, and I held back some things, but I think I made my point clear. In between all the stupid fighting we did at the beach, I broke down in our hotel room and told them all that I just don't Fit In with them. I think they took offense, and looking back, they should have. It wasn't that I wasn't good enough for them, oh no, on the contrary they weren't good enough for me.

You see, at the time I didn't quite think about it like that, I more or less thought: i don't like these people.

I told my Dad what happened in a little more detail after the trip and asked him what he thinks they thought about it. He said, "well they probably took it as you saying that you are better than them."

I thought about it for a second and told him, "I am."

Conceited? Alls I can say is if you knew me you would know I'm not the type of person to say things like that. HOLY FUCKING SHIT, I WAS SUICIDAL AND SWAMPED WITH DEPRESSION AND HAD SERIOUS SELF ESTEEM ISSUES, CLEARLY IF I OF ALL PEOPLE SAY THAT I'M BETTER THAN SOMEONE ITS FOR A GOOD GODDAMN REASON.


Lol. Perhaps after reading this you did already know that. I would hope so anyway. This is almost like a barebones biography. I certainly didn't intend for it to be so long, it just came out taht way.


Back on track. I don't talk to Olive or sexy girl at all anymore. I straight told Olive later taht summer after she was involved in yet more debauchery of my name, "Fuck you, don't talk to me anymore, i don't like you."

I rarely talk to Dick. You really wouldn't understand the depths of why. Let's say this, I could easily go on for a page or two on why I don't talk to him anymore, it's that bad. I basically see this lifelong friend as a weed provider now. Sad, but true.




But now I feel liberated. After the trip to OC I quit taking the meds. I faced my depression head on and got to the depth of it. Believe it or not, depression came back with a vengeance during the summer. There were a few contributing factors, namely lack of a social life and parents prohibiting me from weed. And when I was depressed I was using weed as a crutch.
Well here comes my mom, she gets on depression meds. Oh boy! The plot thickens. It bothers me so deeply I don't even talk to her about it much because I'm afraid to face it. i don't even know if she's still taking them now, i sure hope not, but I know her and my dad's relationship is about as rocky as it's ever been.

I tried to explain to her that beating depression is a matter of will power and determination, not medication. Although I do suppose it works for some.


I think what finally cured me of depression was the fact that I faced it head on and delved into it. I realized
1. Killing myself is not an option. It is the most selfish thing you can possibly do, and I can't and won't put my Mom through it

2. As bad as life is, it's all a matter of perception and attitude. A profound quote to me is one by Lou Holtz, roughly, "If you can't remember what happened yesterday, well than you'd feel pretty good today. happiness is only a matter of short memory" and it's so fucking true. just let that sink in. And if it is true, what exactly is keeping you from happiness? More importantly, what really is this happiness you so desperately need?

3. I read that OSHO book. Really a huge helper in the area of religion.

4. The insignificance of my life and yours is actually a good thing. It might take a while for you to get this, it sure took me a while, but it's actually a positive.

5. *extention of 4*As stupid as it sounds, seeing how big the universe is, and how little we are, and how little i am, and how little life is, makes you kind of appreciate what we have. why waste your one and only life because of a few bad decisions or a one in a 300million girl doesn't like you. Or because your gay and your family won't accept you because of it ( just trying to throw out examples here)? If you think about it, it's absurd to let such nonsense effect your happiness! Even if you can get just another hour of happiness tomorrow from smoking a bowl and eating a pizza, is that not worth it? What is really keeping you from that? MEMORIES!? FUCKING MEMORIES!?
Instead of asking why, ask why not? Why not stay alive to enjoy that slice of cheesy goodness tommorow? Because a few months ago you made a stupid decision? SO FUCKING WHAT! Not only is it too late to change it, but that mistake you made really doesn't matter much anyways.
http://video.google.com/videoplay?d...702&start=0&num=10&so=0&type=search&plindex=0

6. Girls come and go, if she isn't the last one, than it wasn't meant to be. Whatever happened to happiness being the most important thing anyways? Trophy wives are way overrated. Once again, she's one in roughly 150 million women in the US, do you comprehend that number? You're going to let this spec in time and space effect your livelihood? I know this one is easier said than done, the mind is a powerful deterrent, but the persistent and knowledgeable can and will overcome this.

7. Being a natural loner is not the negative thing popular culture perceives it to be. Einstein helped me with this one. Naturally intelligent individuals have the natural tendency to feel somewhat isolated from everyone else, even family and close friends. They just don't get it, and we need to stop hoping they would. I wish I had the quote written down, I do believe I have it at my house, I'll edit it in if I find it.

8. Have a positive attitude. Happiness is more a decision than it is a reaction.

8. Time heals everything.


But now I'm here at college, knee deep in my junior year with almost no social life and about everything to be depressed about, but I'm not depressed. I'm not suicidal at all. Not in the least.

I've even thought about suicide casually and been like, naw, truthfully, it does not appeal to me as an option any more.

I feel like, suicidal thoughts have been defeated in totality. It's a wonderful feeling. One you wouldn't understand if you've never been truly suicidal when thinking about suicide is as natural as breathing.

Thinking led me to depression. Thinking led me out of depression.

 

This thing is still kickin eh? Good. It deserves to be.