Dad is at work right now. It is four in the morning and I am by myself, like any other night. I feel lonely, angry, and hatred. Which sums up my depression for you. I have not been taking my medication like i should be. My depression is worse than it has ever been.

It's cold, rough hand is gripping my throat.
I am suffocating.
I am shaking from fear and anger.
I start going insane.

I start ripping my hair out, I punch myself so hard that little black dots start appearing around my eyes. I yell with so much rage that i scare myself. Tears are streaming down my face, my whole body is convulsing. I tell myself I cannot handle this anymore. I am feeling so weak. I start walking towards the kitchen where all the medicine is kept. I go to grab the bottle of ibuprofen, and I suddenly feel calm. My hands that are always shaking remove the cap off of the bottle effortlessly.

Do I really want to do this? No more than thirty seconds later I take a swig from the bottle of pills, then another, until I have probably  taken around fifty pills or so. Everything seems so surreal. I feel like I am moving in slow motion. I go and lay down in my bed, put on some Avenged Sevenfold, and wait. Twenty minutes later I decide to call the only person I care about, Bailey.

She is the only person I wanted to say goodbye to. I tell her what I did, then she starts to cry. She keeps telling me that i need to call an ambulance. At first I say no, but my conscience tells me yes. It is telling me that I am worth it, and that  people do care about me. So I call the ambulance and told them what I did. They tell me stay calm and that someone is on their way.

The funny thing is that I was not scared at all. Then I remember my dad is on his way home. I am pacing around my house, hoping that the ambulance arrives first. Which of course with my awesome luck, of course my dad is the one who arrives first. My heart is racing so fast that it feels like a nascar race is taking place in there. He walks through the door, and I just stare at him. He obviously knows something is wrong with me, no point in trying to hide the inevitable.

With concern in his voice he asks “ What is wrong jacob?”I say with sorrow “ Dad, I just overdosed…” As soon as the words leave my mouth, his face contorts into anger. He starts spewing just mean and horrible things at me, “ Are you stupid?”, “ What the is wrong with you?” While he is screaming at me, I feel all alone again. Just a few moments later the ambulance arrives. My father then yells at the EMT’s. He told them that he is going take me to the hospital. Great an awkward car ride with my father. The whole ride to the hospital, he kept yelling at me about everything.

When we arrive at the hospital the nurses do their usual routine. I do not want to be here right now. I am just wishing to get away from my father. Everytime he speaks to the nurses, I still hear the anger in his voice. Wouldn't a normal parent be scared or worried? I then remember he does not have a soft bone in his body. A few hours later I am laying in a hospital bed, laying uncomfortably, waiting for anything to happen. Then a doctor walks in and tells me what I have to do. He says I have to be checked in to a f***ing mental hospital. Great I say to myself.

After I was in the mental hospital for a week, I was supposed to learn how to cope with my anger and depression. I was learning how to accept myself for who I am. The funny thing is that none of these skills helped me at all. I am working on this still, and maybe one day it will work. But I still have no one to confide in. I still struggle with my anger and depression a daily basis. I still do not ever know if I will be able to fix myself. This is my demon. I will  not allow it to control me forever.