I'm 14 years old, and I think I might be depressed.
I have no clue what could be causing it, really. Nothing drastic has really happened in my life in like, ever. I have my group of friends that are great, my school's fine and family is fine as well.
And yet, I feel like a mess.
My friends all have their ambitions and goals in life, and that's great. I think I might have some too, but for a reason or another I don't really believe in them. I don't believe in myself, I don't think I'm good enough for anything. My friends tell me I have a low self-esteem, and I think that might be the case. I call myself offensive names on a daily basis.
I think it could be described as a voice, as to say. And no, I don't think I have some sort of mental disorder that would actually cause me to hear voices in my head. It's more like my brain, my consciousness, is divided into several different parts, all of which interject their opinions whenever they want. The biggest and loudest of them all is the one that enjoys putting me down.
If an opportunity is offered to me, I am predisposed to turn it down because I think I'm not good enough. I get extremely confused when someone compliments me, because I honestly don't think there is anything in me to compliment. I just think they're being nice to get me to do something for them.
And as icing on the cake, I think I'm worthless. I'm worthless of any sort of kind behaviour, I'm worthless of living.
I think of dying at least once every few days. The thought of self-harm doesn't sound as repulsive as it should. I haven't done anything, but I can't promise that I won't.
There are days when I wake up wanting to die. Wanting to just close my eyes once again and just never have to wake up to reality again. To just vanish off the face of Earth and be forgotten by all.
The funny part is that there is a part of my brain that knows it's wrong, that knows it's unhealthy thinking and that continues telling me that there is still something worth living. But even that part cannot straightforward name what exactly it would be for me to still stay here.
I love my friends, to the extent where I worry that if I do something to myself and commit suicide that they'd get depressed and sad and do something to themselves. I don't want that. I don't want to hurt anyone by my own actions. In some ways, I stay alive and live life day to day just for everyone else. And I think that's not a good reason to live. I live for others, not myself.
If someone offered me a way to just vanish from all existence and fall into oblivion, I would take that offer and go without even looking back.
The more I think about it, the more complex it gets. I just need someone to tell me what I should do. I don't want to live, and yet I do. I'm torn between harming myself or just putting on a smile and ignoring it all. I don't want to talk to anyone because I don't even know whether this is a real problem or not.