Twenty-two days.

It’s almost my birthday.

Things are different this year.

In twenty-two days, it will be ten years.

10 years that I lived, after the age that I wanted to kill myself.

I was 13/14 when my depression began. I told myself that by the time I was 18…I was going to end my life.

It’s almost 10 years past that age.

I always get depressed around this time…weeks before my birthday.

There’s so many reasons for it, but mostly I wonder if it was worth it…that I stayed alive. 

I take a close look at my life: present and past. I revisit good memories and bad experiences that occurred throughout my life.

As I move toward this new year of my life, I need to make more decisions based on what I want more than what is best for others.

As the days get closer to my birthday, I’m going to revisit my past, contemplate about my future and try to convince my present life that it was worth staying alive for these past 10 years.

I’ll update you.



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