Over the Christmas Holidays I brought up my depression to my mom. I told her I wanted to see a Doctor about it, but she didn't believe I was actually depressed. So I continued battling it on my own. New Year's Eve I spent at Teen Ranch with Blake and my youth group. Blake and I talked for hours, and we decided that we would try the long distance thing when he moved out to British Columbia. He said he loved me and that he would try it for me. Well, once again he lied. The next morning he broke up with me again. He said he didn't really love me, and had never really wanted to go back out with me.

I was more angry than I was upset about it when it happened, and that night Brad took me out for coffee and we talked for a while. I've been so thankful for Brad being such a great friend in my life, and for God allowing us to overcome the rift that had been between us for the majority of high school. He cheered me up, and brought me out of my angry mood.

Well, as happens whenever anyone buries their emotions, they all came back, and it didn't take long for them to do so. For Christmas I had bought Blake an expensive Jersey, and he bought me nothing. One night, at the Way for January, (which I guess would make it the weekend after New Year's) Blake was wearing it under his t-shirt. I wouldn't have had a problem except for the fact that he waited until I was behind him, and then very loudly said 'Oh, it's really hot in here, I'm going to change into something lighter!'. I snapped. I was totally pissed off that night, to the point where I lost total control over myself.

We went to Wendy's like usual afterwards, and he was a total jerk towards me. I went outside for a walk, and the only thought that took over my mind was killing myself. I went totally nuts and ran out into the middle of the road. Obviously, God had other plans than me dying that night, as suddenly, it was like there were no cars on the road. Everyone decided to take a different route. So, I continued across the street, over to the Toronto Star dispenser, and began kicking it as hard as I could. You can imagine the dent I left in it.

That night, for the first time since the ninth grade, when I got home, I had a very strong urge to cut myself. I fought it, thinking it was just because I was pissed off. I was also incredibly freaked out by how much control I had lost over myself that night.

I decided the next day when I got to school that I would go to see the school nurse. She talked to me a bit, asked me some questions, and I told her about the trying to kill myself, and the wanting to cut myself, and everything. She decided she wanted me to see the school counsellor. So I said ok, and we booked a meeting.

As the week went on I slowly got worse. I was able to maintain a happy outlook, but inside I couldn't feel happy no matter how hard I tried. I kept begging God to tell me what was going on, but I never got an answer to that question.

However, God never leaves people completely hanging with nothing. He used my online friend, Marissa to pass along a message to me. It was one she had given to another friend before me, and when she sent it to me, she told me that she felt I needed to hear it. The message was talking about latching yourself to God through faith, and not letting go or giving up no matter how desperate the situation seems. And that was when I realized that I was going to make it through. The situation was tough, but it was a test of my faith to make sure that I could be strong enough for whatever was to come in my life.

I tried forgiving Blake for everything, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. My mind had forgiven him, but my heart just wouldn't let go. I couldn't understand it, and the fact that I couldn't forgive him made things incredibly bitter between the two of us.

While that was all going on, inside I was becoming more and more frustrated and confused. I understood that I had to hang onto my faith, and I was clinging onto it like I never had before. But I still didn't know why I was so depressed. I had a great life, and, despite the fact that I was completely heartbroken, I had nothing really to be depressed about.

The Friday night before Blake left, I was finally able to forgive him. It had been three weeks since we had broken up, and, for the first time, I cried. Ok, so correction. I didn't just cry, I bawled my eyes out like a little baby. I told him I had forgiven him, but that forgiveness didn't make the hurt go away. He told me he knew I forgave him, and he apologized for hurting me. I wasn't entirely sure if he meant the apology, but I accepted it anyway.

Blake left, and I began to move on. But things didn't get any better from there. The urge to cut myself became worse and worse, and there would be night's where without even realizing it I would grab a sharp object and put it to my wrist. I wouldn't clue in until I felt the cold blade against my skin. I started seeing the school counsellor and told her about all of this. She advised me to see my doctor, so I returned home and talked to my mom about it again. She told me that it may be a spiritual thing, and that the doctor wasn't the right answer. I denied it.

Sometimes I wish I would listen to my mother more often. She ended up being right. When the cutting problem got to the point where I could barely fight it anymore, I decided to sit down and just pray about it. I kept getting that I was supposed to try talking to my mom about it again, but, being the stubborn person that I am, I argued against it, saying that she wouldn't listen just like she hadn't any other time.

But finally I gave in. I sat down one Saturday night, and told her everything while she was making dinner. I told her about jumping out in front of the car, and about how I had found myself with blades at my wrist, how depressed I was, and how I could barely fight the urge to cut myself. I told her how I had realized that I wasn't supposed to go to a doctor, but I didn't know what to do, and that I was scared I was going to end up hurting myself.

She told me to go talk to Pastor Todd(who had been our new Youth Leader for about 2 full months by this point, since it was now March). She said that she would go tell him that I needed to discuss something important with him if I didn't feel comfortable asking him myself. I agreed, and so she went and told him. Little did I know that before I got a chance to speak to him, I would discover how many things in my life were actually causing this depression and bringing me so far down.