The impression/experience I have of people falling into depression is that they focus on one issue and then fall into it from the feeling derived from it. Be it from abuse, trauma, death or loss, serious illness or simply genetics.

For me it was a series of events, building up for quite some time and culminating all at the same time. Like a 3 hour long slow plot movie in which the final 5 minutes are all plot twists and you get so shocked and confused you ask yourself "What the hell just happened?"

I think I'll divide them by categories: Socially, romantically, family and academically. Today I'll start a bit on family.

I was an accident. You know, two children that decided to play an adults' game and got the winning (or losing) prize. It's quite sad to know that the only reason I wasn't aborted was because my mother has epilepsy and since abortion was illegal at that time, she was told that it might be dangerous even with all the conditions, she decided to (for one second I was going to write "keep me" but realized that was wrongly phrased) carry me to term. I don't take the gift of Life lightly. I am thankful to the Great Entity that controls this Universe (read god) to allow me to be Here today, and definitely not to my mother because she didn't chose to have me, she chose her life.

Now, I believe some people are meant to have children, even if they don't actively desire them or if the baby/child simply land on their lives. The type of people that wish to pass on their values, that even though they didn't plan it, man up and raise the child the very best they can, doing mistakes (like every parent does) but admitting them and supporting their son/daughter no matter what. My mother is not in that category.


After I was born, both my parents "ooh" and "aah" at me and one of my mother's rant while high from the anesthesia was "Please don't switch my baby". Because... babies are cute, right?? Additionally, I was a REALLY cute baby. I had huge eyes, no hair at all and got chubby right after being born. Let's be honest here.... Who doesn't like chubby babies???

Warning: Fatness is inversely proportionate to cuteness if Age>3

So I was a little trophy, something she could show off to the whole world "Look at my beautiful baby, look at my perfect life!" As a side note, my "family" lived in a village at the time, so for those who don't know the drill it generally is like this: teen girl gets pregnant, rumour mill works around the village, couple decides to get married, all is well now, baby comes, teens still live in parents' home, teen parents get divorced.

Are you thinking "what is this brain challenged girl going on about?? That's every parent's reaction to a newborn baby!!"? If you are, then you are most right. However, proud parents do the dirty work, read: change the diapers, the first months they get little to no sleep, feeding the baby and all that. My parents didn't. The excuse: epilepsy!!! "I need to sleep 8 hours every night!" "I can't change that, it stinks!!" That last one was actually my father's excuse for not changing my diapers, caught on tape. BEHOLD!!! I AM THE DAUGHTER OF CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!!!!!!!

This was my Life for 6 years. I lived in my grandparents' home and they raised me there. I had a happy childhood. There wasn't a moment where I didn't have a dog (that's really important to me), I ate homemade food (my grandmother was a stay at home mom at the time), drank milk straight from the cow, the chickens were raised by us and since the back of my old home was an empty lot, I got stung many times by poison ivy, hunted little bugs and worms, collected flowers, sat in the moss, splashed in the rain and got to see the birth of lambs.

My parents got divorced (what's the percentage of teen marriages that actually last more than 5 years?? It's gotta be below 10% at least!!) when I was 3, 4? years old. For those 6 happy years, my mother was in college and then got a job at a prominent hotel.My father job hopped (mainly from set ups my grandfather got him). Also got his arm cut off at the elbow. (OOPS, there goes my anonymity if you know what you are looking for!) As you can see, he was busy.

Then my mother decided to take me away from my grandparents.

I consider myself a strong person. Lots of stuff happened to me and I've been fine/was able to put it all behind me.

In my last years, things have been really cool in general: I was lucky I got into a really cool major that was required a high average, I was actually quite busy socially, I finally found time to dedicated myself to hobbies (languages, music and etc), my best friend and I were just like sisters joined at the hip and I had the support of my family.

That being said, Life looked at me and thought "Now, now, we can't have that, can we??" And I should have seen it coming.

And that's what this blog is about. My fall into depression and how things can ALWAYS get worse than they are now.

I honestly don't care if anyone reads it, writing the stuff that happens to me helps me see it in perspective.