Writing My Struggle

I

Inconceivable

Formerly Chiraami
Member
Journal 

This is my journal. The first chapter explains it all.

Chapter 1
3/3/11
The enemy of you enemy isn't necessarily your friend. 

Yawn. Ten at night, but I can't be bothered to do anything else. I'm in bed, and my brother is destroying LEGO figures downstairs. 

I'm wondering about life. I do that often, and I recently realised I'm depressed. Now, this isn't a good thing. The session I had was private, and my mother doesn't know about it. 

I'm wondering why I am. It may be hormones, yeah, but it could be something else that happened in my life. I decided I would write it all down, day after day, until I hit something. So this is it. I'm starting. 

Today, I woke up as usual. It was quarter past six. Bleary eyed, I trudged through to the office and changed into my school uniform - a white shirt, black trousers, red tie and tweed jacket. Interesting. 

I head downstairs, and eat some cereal. I read the newspapers, see about Libya and what's happening there. I really don't care, but whatever. 

Later, I get on the train for Guildford. I watch as people get on and off, and I wonder about their lives. Would it make any difference to me if they died the  next hour? Probably not. 

I hopped on the bus and read an atlas, listening to some music. Dull, but whatever. It was Requiem for a Tower. I found it highly stimulating. 

I'm going to change to Past Tense, as I can't be bothered to go back and change it. It's too depressing for me to read. 

When my friend got on, I didn't really feel like talking to him. I was tired, and the wind through the cracked windows was keeping me awake.

However, fate did not favour me. He updated me on his girlfriend (like I care) and told me I should pay attention. I groaned. 

I told him I'd been diagnosed as depressed, and that shut him up. Ha. 

At school, it was alright. Played football until registration, when I pocketed the tennis ball we played with then headed inside. 

Lessons are usually dull, and boring. I find them too easy, and spend my time writing poems. That's my aspiration. To be a poet. 

I got Maths homework. It was working out the volume of shapes using inches being changed to centimetres. It would be dull, but boring. 

We had R.E. in the afternoon. I half-listened to Mr. Vila droning on about the Sermon on the Mount and made a mental note to not listen to him next time. 

Then I told Rory about what he was doing wrong with the work I've been set, and did my Maths homework. 

By then, I was tired and irritable. I still had I.C.T., so I listened and typed up something about an Iberian Lynx using formatting. What joy. 

I headed for the library at the end of the school day - four o'clock. I did it because my father was picking me up at five. I did R.E., then read. 

I won't proofread this. It makes me realise how monotonous my day is, and want to delete it all, or commit suicide. It's terrible, depression.

I went home. My younger brother, Elliot, had a friend home for the night. Some stupid kid by the name of Nathaniel. Got on my nerves. I read a book about enlightenment, and another about hypnotism. 

I found it very unenlightening. 

I was bored by then, so went and kicked around in the garden with a football. I went inside, as it was getting dark. 

I got a call from one of my friends since I was two, Hannah. I told her, but she was reassuring. Sure I'd get over it. That it'd all be fine. Huh. If it is, I'll eat my hat. 

That last sentence. It made me feel good. Better. More looking forward to life. It was remotely amusing. It's amazing, the human mind. Mine's gone into overdrive over the past few weeks, and I'm developing a stammer. I can tell, but I've not told anyone yet. 

Life to me is about secrecy. It's full of twists and turns, but you'll never know all that you could have known if people had been truthful.

I could learn so much more. I've taken to reading the Roman Catholic Bible. It's interesting. I am Roman Catholic, that's true. 

But it's really interesting. It shows how life is, in a metaphorical sense, and what to do. I was tired then. I wondered what to do. 

I realised I could eat, and grabbed a burger. My mother asked if I had any homework, and I replied with the truth - no, I didn't. 

So, I went upstairs, and read the Bible more. Then I listened to music. I watched a couple of things on YouTube, and by then I was on Pokébeach. 

All the regular stuff, and I read about the Game Corner changes. It was good, and I am pleased with it. I just hope it isn't a bad system, or I'll have another turn for the worse in my moods. 

I won't proofread this, either. I'm too depressed. 

I'm wondering now. Do you ever feel this way, like no one else actually cares? That no one really bothers about you?

I think I'll hit the hay in an hour, or so. My brother is flat out in his bed. 

Life is so tedious. The daily routine imprinted on my life like a nail in wood. Wake up, go to school, come home, go to bed. Wake up, go to school, etc etc. 

I really don't know whether it's truly worth it. All of life. Why do we have to suffer the trials of life? It seems that it's like a curse. 

I wonder if any of you will read this, and see other things. It's weird. I hate being depressed. It hurts my head, and I always look at the worst in people. 

I'm always the half-empty person. The one left behind. Dull, dull dull. The outsider of society. The one that just doesn't fit in, except with the misfits and the others who are shunned by society.

I won't bother re-reading, for the same reasons as before. This was a terrible ordeal, but if I'm to overcome it, I have to keep trying. 

So that's what this journal is. A record of my struggle against depression.
 
Yikes...this sounds kind of intimate to me. Is it really your journal, Chiraami, or are you using it as a metaphor or reflection piece for yourself? There's nothing against them, but you may want to watch what you write since some things can be easily misinterpretted over the Internet.

In any case, you misspelled "your" in the first line and "realized" several sentences after that. Also, the setting sort of confused me since it sounds as though it's outside of the US, which leaves small details up in the air for those unfamiliar with little things such as the use of "-our" instead of "-or" in some words and how "football" anywhere outside of the States is really "soccer." I know that's just nitpicking and most people would make sense of things pretty quick, but there may be some younger readers who might need that sort of explanation.

Otherwise, this seems fairly good. I didn't give it a thorough read through, so I may have missed stuff, but still... Nice job!
 
No, I was serious about this. It is my journal, not a piece of reflection. Actually, people pointing out the mistakes and errors, even if they're only small ones or things due to region, are welcome. It makes me feel that I'm different from them in that they can read it and correct it, unlike me.

Yeah, I'll put stuff like that in breakfast next time. Thanks.
 
Well, again, just be careful what you write... Depression is serious business nowadays, and writing about or mentioning it publically can really set off some alarms if even one person misinterprets something (I don't think that would be an issue with anyone here, but you can never be too careful). So don't be surpised if I close (or even remove it) so things don't get misconstrued, alright?
 
Ok, one of those journal stories. A good read nonetheless. No grammatical errors, either.

On another note, where'd you get the title? Hitler's Mein Kampf (My Struggle in German)?

~AoH
 
Writing down your thoughts is a good way to overcome depression from my experience. However, what you should focus on is more opinions and philosophies, and less actual events of the day (as this is a daily routine, you have nothing to gain from writing them all down time after time, right?). Also don't be afraid to splurge all over the page, don't constrain yourself to a tidy format broken up into small paragraphs.

In other words, type what you're feeling, not what you're doing. And don't be afraid to outright rant (I actually recommend that).

I would like to see more. And... you're an aspiring poet, right? Care to share?
 
@ArceusOfHeaven

Mein Kampf? Never heard of it. I just hope the copyrighters aren't breathing down my back.

I'll search it now. Ah yes, I see. No, I see the similarity, but this is in English.

@Bacon

Thanks. That's very telling of opinion. That daily routine was to show how dull it seems to me - always the same, monotonous and boring.

And yes, I like poetry, but my brother is much better. I do tend to write poems, but only one in every twelve get written down on paper from my iPod.
 
Hey there!

Just a quick note: on your profile it says your 11. I'm really not sure if your depression will have anything to do with hormones at this point in your life; I didn't experience the 'depressive stage' in puberty until I was 14, although obviously everyone is different. I don't think that you would be so far into puberty that early though (I could be wrong) but maybe there is another reason for your depression?

Oh before I have a rant, props for the journal. Its a good read and interesting, a real insight into your mind. Good job.

You seem like an intelligent person. How long have these feelings gone on for? Don't forget it's normal to feel depressed from time to time! It may just go away in a week or so. However if you are concerned the best thing to do is to talk to your parents, they will know you best and can decide whether to consult a doctor. There are many child psychiatrists who will have seen people like you before, so don't be afraid to ask for help! You say you have been diagnosed, but that doesn't nessecerally (excuse the spelling I'm dyslexic) mean you are getting the help you need.

Good luck with whatever you do :)

Quick edit @Apollo: "realised" is spelled with an s instead of a z in the UK, so it is a correct spelling.

Edit2: The copyrighters of MeinKampf won't be picking on you, don't worry. They're all dead; the book is by Hitler.
 
Stupid little brother...

I have MDD, Major Depressive Disorder. Sadly the best I can do is combat it, but it'll be very difficult to lose it. I don't know.

I think it's a particularly bad swing.

The feelings I guess, started when I was thirty. New school, and all.
 
@Fridge: Perhaps so, but U.S. variations are considered more standard on a lot of writing boards. I'm not nitpicky. I'm just going off what I know as far as the dialect/writing variations go (which really aren't a lot, mind you, so please bear with me on the things I misconstrue as misspellings).
 
I hate having a strick routine of what I do in the day, and that's why I chose to home-school. I actually made that choice last weekend, and my life is way better. When I home School, first of all I have work left for me, so I'm not with an annoying teacher. Sooooo, I can do what I want when I'm doing my work. For example, I like to listen to my Ipod while I work, so now that I home School I can! Also, the main reason I'm saying this is beacause this used to be my routine. Get up. Take a shower and brush teeth. go to school. Come home. Do homework. go on internet if I have time. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Pretty boring. But now that I home school, I can mix it up, like brush my teeth, eat breakfast, go for a bike-ride in the path that goes through the forest at the park acoss the road, come back, write some stuff in the current book I'm writing (Plan to be an author) and do some work, go on PokeBeach, write, do some work, go to the coffee shop down down the road, get some tea and read a book, come home, finish my work, and do what ever else I want! Now I value my life way more! I used to have thoughts like, "what's the point of life if your just going to be told what to do and not do what you want to do? Isn't it my life?" and now I can do what I want, when I want. It's like I'm free! :) So if your depressed about having your day be pre determined, then I would ask your parrents about home schooling. Also, if your only 11, then you have a serious talant for writing! Your skill either meets or surpasses my own skill in the writen arts, and I've writen better than all of my past teachers and have had multiple articles published in the news paper! Your REALLY talanted!
 
I'm 14, bur my pesky little brother changes it when he feels like it. I was thirty four once. Anyhow, I can't home-school. My mother's too involved with some random thing, and my father's away half the time.

I wouldn't want to home school for a reason. I like being in the company of others while I work, even if it's a few. And I like being told what I can and can't do, because to me it shows what I can aim and achieve for.
 
Wait how old are you? You're in school at 30? Am I missing something?

Also Apollo, the only reason the American thingy is accepted more is because you're American, lol. Over here it's completely incorrect too use American spelling, and not to make it a contest, but we invented English first :p But w/e for the purposes of the forum I think all spelling variations should be allowed. Makes it nicer :)
 
facepalm on table. That was meant to be thirteen. I'm fourteen now.

I intend to continue this, but the second bit is taking a good chunk out my morale.
 
8/3/11
Belief without conviction is worthless.

Five in the afternoon, travelling home from school. I think the depression's lifting a little. Not exactly much though.

First of all, I want to know why everything appears the same in a routine. Why isn't it different? Yesterday I went to a different place, and I felt pleased. 

I did new things, and I think I'm depressed because of my similar routine. I was happy, and content with my lot.

When I got back to school, I got on the bus. Then it was back to the daily grind, and I was too grumpy to speak to my friend. Why is it that when things are the same, they seem new each time to everyone else I talk to?

You see, I've gone out of my way to get people to tell me what they think. Most people are awed at that I'm not content with my lot, and feel I should be pleased with what I do, even if it's the same. 

New topics in work seem good. The problem is that I've done many before, like our new Chemistry Unit. 

Do you know that saying, "The more things change, the more they stay the same"? I've forgotten who said it, but that saying seems to be real. 

Oh yeah, I only mentioned something elsewhere. I have MDD, Majorly Depressive Disorder. I have been depressed before, but only a little. Now it seems really bad, and life doesn't feel like worth living. 

It's the same everyday, never changing. So dull... However, today my friends and I stole a couple of shoes from one of our other friends who is utterly hapless. It continued until we ransacked his locker and found very little. Then we gave back the shoes, and went to various lessons. 

Right now, art is the best lesson to me. In it I can dare to my free will - whatever I want to paint and chalk on. Hills, cows, sheep, whatever. But instead of painting like I used to, I draw instead, and it feels good. Like a new, fresh branch of art has been properly opened to me, ready to be divulged. 

I'm trying to keep my spirits up a bit by drawing. It's fantastic, but all of my drawings are becoming more and more gloomy. Mainly dead flowers, and withered trees. Battered armour features too. 

I don't know if that reflects how I feel. If it does, I don't know how I feel. 

Poetry also helps me take my mind off things too, so I've been writing that a lot recently. But, as you can see from the poem below, it isn't going well. Here it is:

The moon is a illustrious ball
sliding on a silver storm of fog.
In the deep of Winter gales scream
With anguish and terrible rage. 

The dew in the morning is cold
but fresh, product of a hard night.
In the deep of Winter the freezing lands
are tormented by storms and wind. 

The Christmas bells ring and start singing -
A great clashing orchestra of noise. 
In the deep of Winter snow falls
casting a spell of eerie light. 

Foliage and branches all stand bare,
and scratch at windows and at doors
In the deep of Winter the world
mourns for all joy which has been utterly spent. 

I presented it to my English teacher, and this is what he said. Excellent. A Grade. Well chosen vocabulary. You have included all of the styles we've studied.

I am pleased with it, but I don't like the way it runs. I mean, it starts with a topic which is alright, but it slides into a reflection of my feelings. 

I wonder if any of you like that poem. It seems that if some people have no appreciation for poetry these days. It's true, I'm certainly scorned for writing poetry  , but that won't stop me. 

We had an Ash Wednesday service. I tried to explain to people that in the Catholic Church the ashes are supposed to remind us our mortality. Of course, no one really listened. It seems now that science explains a lot, religion has fallen out of favour. 

Yes, religion is admittedly more or less wrong and unbelievable, but tradition sadly still is tradition. 

Anyway, I'm back on speaking terms with a friend or two of mine, who'd been angry with me for an escapade you don't need to know about. 

15/03/11
I have never learnt anything form someone who agrees with me. 

The day before my birthday. Huzzah. I'm not sure whether it's a good thing or a bad thing. I had another argument with my friend again. 

It was bad. Terrible, even. I'm tempted to start writing a story about the end of the world. That bad. 

It put me in a mood for half the day. I was tired as usual. I wonder of life matters if it's all as dull as this. I'll continue writing tomorrow.

16/03/11
Someone who can't stand up for themselves can't  fight. 

It was a good birthday - entertaining at the most. I got socks, money and books. What more could a fourteen year-old want? 

Once again, my friend and I made up, and we were friends for the time. I think that without school, my life would be in a sorry state by now. 

Admittedly, it'd be different, but I'd have nothing to do, and I'd make few friends. But without school, I could work in the garden, and I could help in the woods, and I could earn money from things I want to do but don't have time for. 

Hmmm. 

I'm not going to re-read that. I've not mentioned football, colour or realised, or at least, I don't think I have, so there's no need to point out you're American and/or Canadian. 

I think it's lifting. A little. 
 
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