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Hi. I am 16. It has just recently came to my realisation that I might have a low grade depression. I remember searching up the symptoms of Dysthymia and releasing I exhibit every single one. I didn't realise normal people don't feel tired, have problems overeating, never go out, are afraid everyone hates them, are obnoxiously lazy, paranoid everyone is out to humiliate them. Can anyone share stories of the first time they realised they might have a mental disorder? What made you realise your not like most of the people around you and your thoughts are different? Idk if this is just negative thinking or even worse, just my personality. Edit*** Can you be a confident person and still have this disorder?? I have no problem sticking up for myself, doing presentations, talking to people. But I am very awkward and can be demanding and bossy. But I do it to cover up the fact I am insecure. I have trouble making friends as I do not trust anyone and do not find myself worthy enough for certain people. I would not want to be friends with myself.

I get angry CONSTANTLY at the moment. Over every little thing and I store it up and store it up and explode at my parents and friends. Does anyone else get this? I'm really really scared I'll be violent and physically hurt someone. I used to have problems with anger during my nervous breakdown and I was violent and I used to trash the house and kick and abuse my parents and now I'm just verbally abusive and I hate it and I don't mean to be and I'm scared.

I feel so irrational, agitated and angry. I just want to smash my face in, cut myself too deep or hang myself. I don't want to eat from 1st December. I'm not going to. I can't write this anywhere else 'cause my friends are trying to recover. I want to die. One of the side effects of Quetiapine, which has recently been doubled in dosage for me, is Seroquel Anger. Anyone heard of it? I'm currently a disgusting abusive cow. I can't stand myself. Help.

SORRY IT'S SO LONG, PLEASE DON'T FEEL YOU HAVE TO READ ALL OF IT, I'VE INDICATED THE BIT I NEED TO BE READ IN ITALICS. I have been diagnosed with Dysthymia/Chronic Depression after having Clinical Depression for near enough 10 years. I had a nervous breakdown at the age of 9 after my Grandfather whom I loved dearly passed away from Cancer. I didn't go to school for a year, didn't leave the house, was home tutored, got VERY angry and destroyed the house constantly...I was vile during that year. Basically, to cut a long story short I have self-harmed for 2 years and have 8 suicide attempts to my name in just under 2 years. Doesn't sound a lot but it has got me about 6 hospital admissions and 3 A&E visits for glueing in an even shorter amount of time. I write poems when I'm stressed. So like, basically, the poem's about my head, but it's on paper. So, all my thoughts and feelings and emotions spill out into a poem and I can't control the darkness of these poems. My most recent one was written in the form of a suicide note titled 'No tears shall fall'. I guess that shows you how highly (ha) I think of myself and how much I think about suicide. I showed it to my STR worker and she referred me back to the crisis team, aka Hospital At Home for my area (I don't know if it's changed in all areas) and wanted me hospitalized as I have definite plans, the means and the motive to kill myself at any second. I had the assessment for hospitalization this afternoon in which they said that they couldn't help me and hospital wasn't the right place for me as I'm too young and not the typical 'diagnosis' for hospitalization. Unlike schizophrenia, psychosis, dementia, etc. I was waiting in ALL day today for an answer. They rang me back and told me they weren't taking me onto their caseload because I was having a lot of input from my Care Coordinator and STR worker and that they couldn't do anything else for me. Why won't they help me? Why wouldn't they section me and lock me away and keep me safe? I don't know, I'm confused. A MASSIVE part of me wants to run away and hang myself like I've planned for days and nights now...but a tiny part of me is hanging on to whatever the hell it is that's keeping me here. It might sound sad, but my animals need me to look after them, so I owe it to them really to stay here at least til Christmas. After Christmas, who knows if I'll make it to January...I really really really do not want to be alive anymore. I have nothing to give, nothing left to offer, nothing worth having, I'm not worth loving, I'm not worth being here, I'm not worth living. I'm so so depressed and I feel like no-one really truly understands how bad I feel. I'm sorry .