This was written on August 4th, 2009. 11:05 PM...

I guess if I was on my "real"; Xanga account, there is no way I would write this, ever. Since I'm on an anonymous account, I feel like this entry won't really put a dark cloud over someone's mood. Bolded text means something I recently added.

Today, I woke up crying. I grabbed my pillows and blankets so hard. I thought about how I felt last night, the past week, this summer...the last four years.

Today was literally when I felt "It's really hard to wake up today." I couldn't do it. I couldn't face another whole day again where I felt so much pain. I had never felt this way before.

It was official; I was suffering from depression.

I'm a high schooler in the summer before her senior year. I'm seventeen, a shy Asian girl who lives in a suburban-ish county. Most of all...I felt very very lonely.

After fifteen minutes of lying in bed and crying like an idiot first thing in the morning, I finally got myself up. But I felt so scared about any more breakdowns I would have today.

The first thing I did was go on the computer, and looking for comfort; I checked my email, and my friend had emailed me last night. His email made me laugh, and suddenly I felt a lot better.

I proceeded going to message boards and forums on dealing with depression. I had done so for days, constantly looking for an answer (hey, that's a good thing right?). I posted up questions of how to deal with my problem, and whether or not I should see a psychologist. Almost everybody answered yes, and suddenly felt worried again.

Suddenly I broke down and cried so hard. I felt the pain. The pain that clearly signified if you were really suffering from depression. It came down so hard...I can't even describe it. It is indescribable. It is the most painful thing I had suddenly ever experienced, it was something that was killing me from inside my body...

This part is a little disturbing. When I went to shower, I grabbed the scissor from my medicine cabinet. I needed something. I needed something to tell me I was alive, that I am living...that I had feelings and emotions. I knew I didn't had the guts to even cut myself, so I made scratches. I made scratches on my arm, and I made scratches on my stomach. I needed a scar that would stay, and that would remind me about something...I don't know. It just felt right and I was satisfied.

I can't remember what quite happened afterwards. I just know --I was really depressed the whole day. Even when my family came home, I was just really depressed. I had never felt so crappy in my life before. I could imagine myself being like the girls on the message boards, who constantly said how much they had cut themselves, how much they couldn't bare their life, and how many times they attempted suicide. I, me, myself, was actually thinking that I was starting to fit in with them.

I was so depressed, that the sunny day made me feel like throwing up; just the fact that it was a gorgeous weather outside. I passed by some flowers outside, and I felt so jealous of them; I wish I was as pretty as they were, as valuable to someone or just standing carefree and swaying in the wind. When I saw the red moon at night, I envied the moon for how pretty it stayed up in the sky. It was all so silly, being jealous of things that aren't comparable to human, but that day, I knew a part of me was dying, whether it was physically, emotionally, or mentally...

At the end of the day, I still felt horrible. And then I thought about tomorrow.

I couldn't believe it. Another day home tomorrow. I really just can't believe it. I was going to go nuts. I couldn't handle another day feeling so much pain and so much depression at the same time. It was so unbearable, it was unimaginable, it was so so...difficult to imagine. Can you imagine? Another day in your life difficult to get through?

So I was like "This is it. I'm going to be desperate. For once in my life, I am going to be a needy person, and I am going to practically beg someone to hang out with me tomorrow, regardless if they want to or not. I don't care what they think of me; I need to save myself."

For me, the thing is that I never wanted to be a burden on anyone. Ever since I got out of a friendship from a super needy friend, I told myself I would never do that to another person. As I result, I barely even made plans with others because I didn't want to seem so needy. But tonight, I needed to change that.

"I need to save myself tonight" I thought to myself, over, and over again. No, I wasn't going to commit suicide, but I knew that I couldn't handle something so unbearable, for another 24 hours. I needed to talk to someone, to go out with someone, no matter how lonely I felt, or how much I felt like I couldn't reach out to anyone.

And it all went fine. I felt like the minute I talked to someone, this pain slowly went away. They couldn't hang out tomorrow, but another day soon was fine.

Suddenly, I felt normal for that twenty minutes.

I knew the pain would be back. I knew that I would become "depressed" again, or that I would grab the scissors once again from my medicine cabinet, or that I would break down and feel that pain burst inside me.

But I had to do something tonight.

If nothing was going to reach out to me...if no one was going to grab my hand and save me...I had to.

I had to save myself.

I don't know what I could've done if I didn't reach out to someone. I have told myself as long as I could remember that I was an independent person; I don't need anyone, emotionally, I would always say. I told myself I loved being an introvert and enjoying solitude. But on this day, I had been terribly wrong, and I surrendered and admitted that...I was needy too.