Everyday I think about killing myself because I hate my life so much. Things never go my way, stuff is always irritating me, no one likes me, and things seem to get worse when I get home. At one point in time I thought sleep was my only escape from the madness, the pain, but I soon realized that it was not the answer. Don't get me wrong, sleep is a wonderful thing, but as soon as I feel asleep, the next thing I knew, I was awake having to face the cruel world again, as usual, I would go down swinging but not landing a single punch.

There really was not some single event that triggered by depression, it just started. In the 6th grade I came home crying everyday, by 8th grade I was so mad and upset I vented my frustrations through a threat letter I took to school, needless to say - I was kicked out for the rest of the school year. Now here I am, 10th grades. Thin

Some topics in this essay:
, Epilepsy Bad, depression forever,