2016, many called it hell, I personally wouldn’t disagree and I couldn’t blame anyone for creating that label. I mean,
Trump coming about, and princess Leia passing… ouch. Not to take the spotlight off of either of those tragedies, I myself could call it the worst year of my 17-year-old not-so-long life. Depression emerging once again, and again, and again. Falling in love, and melting into an unhealthy relationship. Being raped by the boy I was in love with. Losing oh so many friends. Losing my best friend in a crash. I ended up in the hospital a week before. Mild alcohol and drug abuse throughout. All I can say is, it has been hell.
With such a horrible year still stepping on my brain heels, I decided to put to use some skills that I have, so I created this blog with the suggestion coming from my mother. Now, I have to explain how I got here first though. I gave the gist of my least favourite parts of 2016 but really that’s not even half of it. This journey began in 2015.
I’ve struggled with depression since I was about 10/11 and when I was about 14/15 I began failing classes, and being a kid that always exceeded in school, it hit me hard. It was a downward spiral in my depression and my own self. I changed schools the next semester (2015) and not even two months later a friend and classmate had commit suicide, who just so happened to be the close cousin of my now passed best friend. My friends at my old school offered no sympathy and began to drift so it made it easier for me to completely move where my school was.
2015 was dull and numb, but also particularly new for me. I moved onto a First Nations reservation that I spent a few years of my childhood in, so it was familiar but everyone was grown up. No one disliked me because I minded my own business and I was friendly. My friend groups varied throughout the year(s); but I became close to one of the cousins of the girl who had passed, and to this day I call him my #1. Months after her passing, my #1’s girlfriend had passed throughout the summer. I had never really experienced death throughout my life until these incidents, it was like learning to talk again. I didn’t know if I should give them space or never leave their side. I also didn’t know if I was an asshole for uttering, ‘sorry for your loss’. So I never really did, and I still don’t. I didn’t actually feel it the first time either, I just got major anxiety. The second time, I was terrified when I found out, I just thought about my #1. I immediately messaged him, and all he told me was, “It’s okay. You’re here now and that’s all that matters.” At this point I was 16, he was 15.
After the summer and the beginning of a new school year, I started confidently but my depression took over at the worst of times, still causing trouble in my school performance. The oddest of people emerged in and out of my life. My friend groups ended up younger than I was and really I can’t say they were bad memories, because they really weren’t. Coming into 2016 though, things changed.
I began talking to a friends older brother in January, who I had also been in Nursery, Kindergarten, and Grade 4 with. We were just friends at first but for some reason I found myself interested. After actually getting to know each other, from then on things progressed and we were together for a good month in Feb/Mar. Very long, I know. After I had broken up with him, which I did because I had commitment issues and we treated each other more like friends honestly, we still remained close and I would consider him my closest friend. Things were exceedingly complicated and rocky because he loved me and depended on me lots, I loved him but I’m very independent and that scared me at the time. Also being 16, I just didn’t want to have to deal with a relationship when I had school and my depression to power through still. Our actions never changed and I think that’s where I went wrong. Moving on to the summer, that’s when my “grey case rape” had taken occurrence, June 11th to be exact, to sum it all up, I was drunk, he was not, I never said no. I didn’t talk to him for a couple of weeks but my feelings for him didn’t just automatically leave, I only wish it had worked like that. Of course in the end I just told him that I wanted nothing to do with him.
I lost a lot of friends throughout the months after that incident and I slowly just lost self value. I wanted to kill myself by November because of everything that had begun to happen. It’s like each week I didn’t get a break! The first couple weeks, someone I had spent a lot of time with and had grown very close to, I began to lose I guess I could dramatically say, but he liked to sing with me, I really care for him. I would proudly be able to say now that losing him felt worse than the whole June thing though. The next week was midterms, I was extremely depressed and suicidal. The day I had to take my second exam, I took off in my car and the night before I had a plan made up. Around the end of the day where I was just about ready, my dad had been texting my mom, so she had begun to text me and asked where I was and to let her know if I was okay. I burst after a little chat with her and told her about June. I ended up being admitted to the hospital a few days later and I was put on antidepressants. My dad had pulled me out of school that week as well.
November 23rd, I was driving to visit my mom for a night, and my best friend, Justine, was coming back from there; from dropping off her boyfriend. Her cousin Sabrina was driving. I had passed where they crashed maybe 60-90 minutes before and the road conditions were fine, but I guess they hadn’t been then. They had skid and flipped into the ditch across from the bridge. She died on impact but Sabrina was still conscious when people arrived, but she didn’t make it. They said it was from speeding and it was a 50 zone. Ironically it was across from the hospital. I got the call not 15 minutes of me arriving to my moms apartment and I left to go back as fast as I could. A very difficult and numb week followed.
I was still losing friends throughout the next few months but by January, one of them cracked me. Everyone was constantly mad at me every day for something. I had just had enough when one of them was angry over $20 that I didn’t technically use, but said I’d pay for when I got money again. They just started getting after me and I didn’t want to deal with it so I gave small answers. The words, “Too drugged out to function properly Hannah?”, really stung. That night after I was done being consoled by a good friend, I texted my mom. I told her I couldn’t do it anymore. Somehow, we made it happen. I slowly moved, and by February 11th, it was official.
So here I am, starting new once again. Maybe more positively this time. I live with my mom and her boyfriend. About 10-12 days ago I stopped taking my antidepressants. Goal #1 completed. I named this entry goal digger, I got that from a sticker, and you can actually see it on the mirror in the photo. The photo isn’t pretty but it shows what I wake up to everyday, I want this wall to remind me there’s more out there now. I was never able to set myself goals before, there was just nothing for me out there, and I was never able to heal. I think of it as me digging up goals now. I really don’t know what I want to do either, but I also wanted to be able to do whatever I wanted. I think that’s where it’s starting. I stopped doing what I enjoyed, I enjoy typing, I enjoy photography, I enjoy filmography, I enjoy volleyball. I think for a while I forgot that I even enjoyed those things. I had absolutely no hobbies or actual interests and neither did anyone else. My living was immensely dead ended, I realized I needed to get out of that to get better, I speak as though I’m old but remember, I struggled with drug and alcohol abuse throughout, and that was bringing me nowhere.
I’m making a resume tomorrow, and the next day my mom and I are putting them out. I’m still deciding on going back to school for my needed 14 credits, or waiting until I’m 19 to just get my GED. I’m going to start going to a gym down the road in a few weeks and my older sister wants me to take some classes with her. I’m learning the guitar, and I want to get back into piano. I want to get back into the type of video games I used to play nonstop. I want to read and study books, and I want to improve my vocabulary and writing again. I’m going to start taking photos again. I want to get into poetry, I love poetry. I’ve began talking to old friends of mine also, I went to a couple of hockey games with them not too long ago. Across all of these things, I’m starting here. My parents for so long wanted me to have an outlet of some sort and I’ve tried multiple things but I haven’t tried writing. Just last night for the first time in a very long time I told a good friend my genuine thoughts and theories and everything. It felt good and this feels good.
I’m going to use this for my thoughts and I’m going to use this for really anything I write. If you dislike the lack of explanation and detail in parts of the story, because I know there is, there is a chance I’ll touch on those topics once again. I don’t know if anybody will read these, but if you do, this is why I’m here. Essentially, this is me Hannah Rose trying.