Life With Mental Illness

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This is a collection of stories based on things such as depression. These are moments in life when they are at one of their darker moments during their life. A glimps in to a person dealing with such issues doing thought daily life. You will get the unique view of a person struggling with depression, coming from personal experience and feelings. With a small glimpse of what it is like to deal with such issues. (Please note that not everyone has the same experiences, Depression is a very serious thing and is extremely hard to deal with, if you have depression please read with caution. This is based on some very true emotions, feelings, and events. If you have depression please try and reach out, especially in those darker moments, do not follow how it is dealt with in the book especially with severe cases).

Drama / Other
Arcin Enroth
5.0 3 reviews
Age Rating:


In a small home, in one room sat a girl working at the desk in her room late. Her room was dark expect for the light of a single lamp and her laptop. The desk was filled with papers, textbooks, pencils, pens, erasers, and notebooks. The paper she was working on was covered in scratch marks and eraser markings. The pencil was getting smudged as she wrote because of her dominant hand is her left. Something she has long gotten used to by this point at life. It needs to be perfect I need these marks. This report is going towards my final grade for the course, and I need a high mark to maintain my average for the course. They expect me to be perfect… to do good in school I can’t let them down any more than I already have. She thought as she worked on the rough draft.

It was late after an extremely long day, and week. But this was somewhat of a daily routine for her at times. For her, she had many 8:30 morning lecture or lab, and nearly every day of a lecture that ended at 7 pm. But it wasn’t always where her day ended. She often had many assignments or reports due over the week, and due to her desire for her work to be perfect, and the baggage of the day and her other mental set back holding her down making work that would be easy for others in her program or similar little trouble and little time, took her multiple hours even days sometimes to complete with a fair amount of difficulty. This more often than not set her back in her work, making it nearly impossible to prepare for the coming lectures, labs, and even tests extremely difficult. She often was overstressed after days but would push onwards doing such work trying disparately to get caught up… But nothing worked. She wasn’t a procrastinator, so she preferred getting such things a day before, right now in her life it felt like a dream that will never happen.

Over a weekend she would get up to at least 7 things that need to be done for the coming week. This was something that is not much of a surprise for what she choose to due in her university career choosing to do a double major of 2 intense science courses. It didn’t seem like an impossibility for her originally, but now its something which is causing her extreme bouts of stress. You may say it is her own fault she could have done something else, and not deal with such things if she changed majors, but that isn’t easy. For that means she needs to accept she can’t do this, something which is much harder for her to do than lie to others about her own feeling, or even tuning out the background noise that went on around her. It means she can’t and she is different from everyone else, even more so than she already is, something she doesn’t want to accept.

She printed off the typed version of her report before starting to work on the next thing she had already started a few days earlier. With those she would consider her friends, many consider her to be the responsible one, and the smart one. She made lists of what she needs to do in her life for school and what she needs to get or even do for her life, from food to chores. As she printed off the next thing she looked at her clock. 2 am… I should get to bed, I got a lecture at 8:30, she muttered. Closing her laptop, she put her books, binders, and laptop in her bag.

A few hours later her alarm goes off at 7 to tell her to wake up. She is slightly awake and aware of the alarms going off but she doesn’t want to move from the bed, removing the warm covers, and face people like a normal day. As it gets close to 8 she let out a groan sitting up and grabbing a pill bottle. She looked at the medicine for a second and shook her head, no… I made a promise… I can’t break it. No matter how much I want to, she thought. She grabbed a single pill and put it in her mouth, grabbing the cup from the table beside her and swallowing. This medicine she took was to help her focus and sit still. She looked at her phone to see the time, 8 am. She got on some clothes, looking at the game console in her open closet for a moment. I’ll get to play you eventually just not now, she muttered. She couldn’t really remember the last time she had a personal day and didn’t feel guilty about it. Her life revolved mostly around school and work.

Getting on her jacket, and grabbing her phone, earbuds, bag, and keys she left her room closing the door behind her making sure it was locked and checking her pocket for the keys she had just put in there. As she expected her room and went downstairs she ran into one of her roommates. “Morning Callie. Off to class,” she asked, with a polite smile and cheerful tone. Callie looked up from the ground and to her roommate as she got her boots on.

“Morning Lulu. Yeah, I got a biology lecture at 8:30.”

“Did you have breakfast?”

“Yeah, I had something.”

Lier, when’s the last time you had breakfast, not like you even need to eat, a voice sneered. Callie gave her friend a slight smile before leaving the house, locking the door behind her. Living on campus made it easier for her to wake up late and head straight to class, she listened to music as she walked towards the building her lecture was in. She walks by a little concession stand that had pastries, and drink for students to get to eat. She looked at it for a moment, before shaking her head slightly and walking off. I can’t afford any of that… I’ve already almost used up my entire loan, not as I need it anyways, she mumbled. Going upstairs she entered the classroom and spotted her friend, putting on her mask again she held a slight smile as she walked over and sat next to him. She met him in during the fall exams of the first semester and would sit next to each other in the classes they had together. They were pretty good friends.



“So did you eat this morning?”

“Nope… but when do I ever eat.”

“Well, you’ll eat chicken fingers.”

“I only ate them for breakfast one time, and it was nearly lunch anyways.”

“Yeah yeah. Did you finish the work for chemistry?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

The two of them often talked about things like that or showed each other images during lecture, when not busy writing, or following along. He was probably one of the first people she often told small things or little problems and rarely tried to hold up the positive demeanor with. She also would grip about tests, assignments or work, she felt it was probably since they were in similar situations it made it easier for her. He was in a program that loaded him with many course science related, but he didn’t have nearly the same issue as Callie did in her classes. He was really smart and had a scholarship with the school, he was also the one that was also helping her with multiple or things for classes. When talking with him or doing something she loved she found it easier to ignore the little nagging voice that was in her head.

She looked down at her hand and noticed something she nearly forgot about. She nudges him and angled her hand. “Look what I did yesterday.” She said, letting him look at the cut along her hand.

“What did you do?”

“I was cutting up some vegetables, and my hand slipped and I dropped the knife.”

“Of course you would.”

She smirked slightly, “but of course, I can’t do anything right in my life.” She replied. “It not anything serious mind you.”

“You really should keep away from things like that.”

“Your one to talk mister. I can’t leave you or our other partner for a few minutes without something happening.”

When she had large breaks between classes she would head to her house grabbing the binder for her next class, she tried to work between classes sometimes but she often found little getting do as she was more worried about missing her next class.

“When’s the last time you went to your math class?”

“Friday… I only go once a week to the lecture. It’s the same as last year, I still have the notes for last year. My problem aside from everything wrong with last year is my problems with tests.” She mumbled.

But it’s more because you can’t go to that class without cursing yourself, or wanting to-

“You want to see this pic I found it really funny.”

Some days are worse than others, sometimes she wishes to crawl inside her closet, or lie in bed. Making doing work even harder. She often listened to her roommate's talk or go out while she stayed in her room working. Whenever she hears one of her roommates upset she would go check on them and make sure they are alright. But she rarely let anyone see or her emotions. She left them bottled up, rarely letting how she felt out. She kept to her self and has things when she got worse. Waking up was a chore, she found some of the task she did become something valuable, receiving projects back with high marks and good grades, made her feel valuable. That she was holding up to what most people thought of her.

Then came the day she was to get the midterm for her math lecture back. She had studied multiple hours for it and looked over everything they had done, and the assignments she working on getting the full layout and got what was going on. She gave herself a lot more time to study for it than she could when juggling the multiple assignments. She had to go to another class right after which her friend was in well away she was to get the mark for the midterm of the class.

“So how did it go?”

“Fine.” She replied. In her hand, she hid the midterm rolling it to hide the mark. She flashed I’m a smile hoping form him to believe her. Before he could say anything else the lecture started. Callie reminded quiet for it giving short replies to her friend starting off.

See your an idiot! You can’t do anything right in your god damn life and you never will. You should have never come here. You don’t belong here. You never did and never will, and this proves it. You. Are. A. Moron, the voice in her head sneered. No one cares about you. You don’t deserve their worry they have more important things to deal with than you, so don’t bother talking to anyone. They don’t really care about you, besides, you can’t afford coming here let alone getting any help, the voice laughed.

Callie felt like she was about to cry everything she’s done and none of that mattered, even when working super hard nothing she did seems to pay off to her. Then tears began to form in her eyes then fall on her page, she tried wiping her tears and stopping her runny nose but it wasn’t working too well. Her friend then nudged her, “hey are you alright?”

She didn’t want to tell him what was really going on. She didn’t want him to worry about her. She felt like she didn’t deserve it, she was a giver, not a receiver. She used things that happened to her to help others, using those stories to try and help someone else feel better or to get the attention of someone that looked to be uncomfortable. She was never the one that was consoled, she didn’t deserve it. She was a no one, she already felt like a failure, she didn’t want someone to feel sorry for her. During every single of those stories she told whenever they expressed some form of concern for her she gave them a fake smile and told them, “it’s fine” or “it doesn’t matter” even “ it's not like we can change anything” pushing off anything that happened to her as nothing.

She wiped her face letting out a fake yawn. “Yeah just tired that’s all… and the colds making my nose really runny. Everything’s good,” she replied. She gave him a fake smile before going back into herself. As the lecture ended she packed up her things and left with her friend.

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

She left her friend heading the other way pulling the hood of her jacket over her head to hide her face is it was beginning to become streaked with tears. She got into her house, through her shoes off as she raced upstairs. Opening her door and closing it quickly behind her. Putting her keys down and her bag on the ground as she threw her coat on the chair. She climbed into her bed pulling a blanket over her and grabbing one of the stuffed animals from her bed and a pillow as she pushed her self into the very corner of the bed and room. Tears began streaking her face as she began to sob. She buried her face into her pillow as she released sob after sob. Her entire body shaking from the sobs.

“Why can’t I do anything right?” Callie whispered. “I work twice as hard sometimes, and rarely get the same payoff.” She muttered as tears began to form in her eyes again. “Why does this world hate me. Why does everything hate me? Why… why do I have to deal with this… I have enough to deal with as it is. So why…”

She held her legs close to her. Eventually, after many hours, the tears stopped falling. She got up from her bed and over to her desk and started to try and get to work. But whenever she ran into a problem she got frustrated and wanted to scream. It got to the point she fell off her chair and just crawled under her desk leaning against it with her legs close to her chest. She dug her nails into her arms give her some other feeling other than the nothingness that has begun to surround her. The feeling like she is about to cry but tears not coming out.

I’ve never lived my life for myself… people always wanted something from me. When’s the last time I was doing something for myself? … I can’t remember. I’m pathetic, I can’t even work on something so easy. Every day getting up is hard, acting like everything fine… no one realizes how hard it is. Everyone jokes about it, and when I manage to slip those few words out pleading for someones help no one listens. No one gets how hard it is to talk to someone about it what I’m feeling… and keep talking… when you feel worthless, she muttered. Her head leaning back as she closed her eyes, digging her nails in deeper and deeper until eventually drawing some blood. All it shows is no one really cares… I shouldn’t waste my parents or the bank's money anymore. I shouldn’t waste my friends time dealing with me. I don’t deserve anything.

She looked over at her bed tired eyes, little light left in then, with a tired look on her face. The only reason, I’m still alive right now is because of that stupid promise I made to my mother. The promise that I would never let my family go through what I’ve seen other families and I myself have had to go through losing loved ones. The promise that I will not kill myself… not matter what. I never thought I would reach such a point, she sighed. She noticed that her phone began to light up telling her about a message she had received.

She didn’t move to check it. I don’t deserve other people’s sympathy or concern. Stop worry about me. Stop! I don’t deserve it! I don’t! I hate myself! I fucking hate myself, I hate my life! Please… stop, I don’t deserve it, care about someone else… someone better. I’ve already given up on life, I gave up long ago, so please spend your effort on someone else.

The next day she got up and got changed and grabbed her bag and before leaving her room made sure to be wearing her mask. A warning the fake mask, she was so good at pretending, and hiding her emotions. As if nothing had happened acting like it was just another day where in reality it wasn’t. Hiding the marks she made on her arms, the dullness she feels inside. Unsure at this point if when she laughs or smiles it real. That dark voice in her head was still there always dragging her down deeper and deeper. She had given up hope of being saved from this feeling of drowning and was no longer fearful of dying. She just waited till it was her time. As to her, that was all that was left. Everyone has taken too much to the point she has nothing left. By this point, she has long given up hope for others, as she’s found no matter how many times she says it… they don’t believe her or don’t act.

In the entire world of billions of people, she felt alone and that she didn’t matter.

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