Depression is something I’ve always dealt with but it was something I thought I could handle alone. Ever since I was little my parents had me in and out of counseling but the problem with it was that no one ever wanted to truly help, they all wanted to seem to medicate me and never wanted to talk about the deep problems I knew I had. They always felt the need to talk about what was going on at the time. I think figuring out the deeper problems I had would help stem off and help the current problems. I never really thought that I had depression because this feeling was something that was always there. I could hide it most days and no one ever really knew what was wrong. As my teenage years started I would just run and run and run, thinking that this would solve my anger, my sadness, and my lack of ability to get close to people. When I was nine years old my grandfather , who was like a father to me because my father was in and out of person and never emotionally there for me but that’s a story for another time, passed away of colon cancer. This was the first time I truly remember feeling so hopeless and not feeling the desire to live. My junior year of high school all the people I thought were my friends all of a sudden were saying horrible things about me telling me that I was worthless and unfriended me. Leaving to bare high school alone, having no one to turn to I attached myself to my sister while being at school. Outside of school I attached myself to work friends only because they were older. They didn’t want to be around the drama and for a shear moment I thought I felt normal. Something that is important to know was because my father could not hold down a job we were living with my grandma , which caused all sorts of tension, no one was happy. One day something in me snapped I blacked out and started hitting the only person that I considered to be my friend, my sister. When I realized what I had done I ran into the bathroom and broke my hand from punching the walls so hard. I begged my parents to get me into therapy because I knew I needed help. My mother did everything she could and got me in but my father would throw it in my face how weak I was for needing someone to help me. The guys name was Ryan that I saw, my first appointment I bawled my eyes out. We never really talked but I always felt safe in his room knowing he would not judge me for crying, he understood the pain I was going through. At the beginning of my senior year we moved across country, starting a new school , no friends, no one to support me. I quickly just focused on school and found a job where I thought I liked.  I made a best friend.  I graduated high school , became a manager, was traveling in which during this time I met a guy at the local grocery store. He was working at the Starbucks there and I fell in love. The only problem was he was taken and by taken I mean he was married. Forced into a marriage at the age of eighteen. We grew to be friends and I learned how unhappy he was, I felt pity thinking no one should be in a relationship and hate it so much. Eventually he left his wife and got a divorce. He asked me out and I was reluctant of saying yes fearing I was to rebound and because I was a virgin. Knowing he would be wanting sex from someone he had never been with. He would be wanting the freeing idea of someone new. We clicked and started dating in July. November rolled around and I found a text on his phone from someone saying they were in love with him and they loved him more than her husband.  We took a break at this point because I was hurt he was talking to someone else.  We did get back together and a month later I got pregnant. Eighteen and pregnant. This was terrifying  never in a million years did I ever want to truly fall in love with someone of have children. I hate kids. I hated the idea of kids but when I found out something changed in me. I was over the moon excited. Throughout my pregnancy we had troubles like every couple does. My daughter was born September 21. I’ve never been more in love with anything in the whole world but the troubles didn’t stop there. We moved and a girl messaged him how she was so in love with him and how she would leave her boyfriend for him…. this caused us to get in so many fights me wanting to leave. I tried to change myself into the woman he wanted because we had a family I didn’t want our family to be broken. We got engaged… He know says he felt pressured into getting engaged and he once again messaged a girl. This time I wasn’t too worried about it because I personally knew her. We had met and although we did not get alone she was in love with her husband and posed no threat. This past week I found messages he sent her saying he was in love with her, he missed her , he thought about her everyday. I confronted him and told him to leave. He told me he loved her as a friend that he was scared to get married again because of his last marriage. That hes been so depressed he’s been drinking before going into work. I told him that if he wanted to make it work this was all up to him that I am done trying. If he no longer tries I am taking our daughter and leaving. Something I forgot to mention was that when I was pregnant that I was diagnosed with chronic depression, bipolar, and anxiety. I know take medication because I am trying to get a hold of it. not for myself but my daughter. but how can I not feel depressed when I found these things. My body is ruined I went from a size six to an eight/ten. i am covered in stretch marks. i feel ugly. i almost died after my daughter was born from an infection in my uterus so i can breast feed. i feel awful for not providing the best milk for my daughter so i am over protective  on what she if fed. only organic foods with nothing bad in it. how can i not hate myself and wonder what is even the purpose of living. most people are going to think well you have a daughter and i do and she is the only reason i am alive today but what if…. what if i wasn’t… what if i left tomorrow never turning back… what if i left him because the way i am treated…. but i am too weak to do any of these things… i am too weak to truly talk to anyone who says they care for me because i am always told to be happy, dont snap, don’t freak out while we are in public as if i have complete and total control of what i do. this is my so called life and i don’t know what to do anymore.