Sorta my life story.

Atypical depression (AD) is a subtype of dysthymia and major depression, sharing many of the symptoms of both, but also being characterized by mood reactivity—being able to experience improved mood in response to positive events. In contrast, sufferers of "melancholic" depression generally cannot experience positive moods, even when good things happen. Additionally, atypical depression is characterized by reversed vegetative symptoms, namely over-eating and over-sleeping, and separately by interpersonal rejection sensitivity.

Despite its name, "atypical" depression is actually the most common subtype of depression^[1][2]—up to 40% of the depressed population may be classified as having atypical depression.

I know not many people read my blog but I'm pretty sure only one person who does, knows about my dad.

Atypical depression is one of the few depressions that is genetic, my Papa had it, my dad, now me and I'm pretty sure my three brothers too. It is typically triggered by some big even and can start even in your teens. 

About 5 years ago my Papa was diagnosed with Alzheimers and my dad started going down hill. See Lois (my dad's mom who I no longer even consider my grandmother) used to beat my dad and his sisters and though my papa was not around much (he was a truck driver) he never did anything to stop it. My dad has wanted, for his whole life, to ask his father how he could let such a thing happen and as soon as he was diagnosed my dad lost his chance. 

At the beginning of my sophomore year my dad moved out because he was causing too much stress at my house. He would come home from work and pretty much just watch tv then eat dinner then go to bed. I don't think my dad talked to anyone in our house for about two weeks before him and my mom agreed he needed to leave. So in August of 2008 my dad moved out. Then in November he kinda just moved back in, I don't really know why. Anyways he was doing better, it felt more like a family again. Then in February of 2009 me and my longtime boyfriend (16 months) broke up.

Okay this is about to get really personal so I'm sorry if you don't like it. 

I came so close to killing myself that I had the pills in my hand. Then the song that saved my life came on my ipod, Miserable at Best by Mayday Parade. I have never had a closer connection to a song than I do to that one. I realized that if I was home by myself any longer I was probably going to do it so I started calling my friends, 9 people 2 answered and told me they would call me back later, no one else answered. I decided to call one more person, we had just started rekindling our relationship recently but I thought maybe she would come over. So called Adrianne, she answered even though she was on the bus ride home. She immediately knew I was crying and asked me what was wrong. I told her I couldn't be alone because I was going to kill myself and she told me she would be there as soon as she could and to stay on the phone with her. So I did and she just distracted me by telling me about her day and stuff. She ran to my house from the bus stop and stayed till her mom made her go home. 

Now it took me about a week to be back to normal, somewhat, though I was upset for a while but I managed to keep my head up for the most part. Then when summer started I sunk into a huge depression. I left my house twice I think and I only really talked to Adrianne, she came over almost every day and would just sit in my room with me talking. Then school started again and I had something to keep me going, I started counting down the days till I could officially be away from Dylan and school itself.

Then in August almost exactly a year after my dad left again, this time because I asked him too. He had slipped back into his depression and I couldn't handle it. So he moved out. I was okay with it I mean my dad and I hadn't really talked in a while anyways but he called me every night and then it became once a week and it was good.

Then one night I cracked. I was driving home from the dog park with my mom and we were on this winding kind of road, we went around this corner and out of nowhere I hit this guy. I freaked out and slammed on my breaks and my mom just gave me this weird look and asked me if I was okay. I had imagined the entire thing. I didn't drive again for a month I was so scared of what would happen. 

Then I started taking pain killers recreationally. I took about three I think in a matter of three months. I got my license on November 7 and was happy again for a while. Then in January my dad stopped talking to me. He didn't talk to me or any of my brothers for a whole month but while he was "busy with work" he had time to take a weekend trip to Las Vegas with his new girlfriend. 

In February I went snowboarding with my brother Billy and my mom, on our way home we drove through this canyon and while I was looking out the window I heard this voice (yeah I know, Michelle is psycho blah blah blah) telling me I should open the door and see what happens. It was really scary, I didn't want to die so why was this voice telling me to do this. It started happening when I was driving around too, it would tell me to run red lights or open my door or drive with my seatbelt off or something, stuff that could kill me. I also started having these dreams where my dad would kill me, unlike most dreams where you wake up before you die I wasn't able to wake up from them until I had floated above my body and watched myself be murdered, so I stopped sleeping. The longer I stayed up the shorter the dreams were.

 Then one day I took a Vicodin again, it was the first day in over a year that I was truly happy. It made me feel a million times better and I slept through the night with no dreams or voices. So I started taking them a lot more. I'd wake up, take a pill, go to school, come home and sleep then repeat. It was amazing.  Then I made the mistake of telling Adrianne about the voices and dreams, she told me if I didn't tell my mom then she would. So I told my mom, she told me she would get me into a therapist and get help. At this same time my parents were going through a very rough divorce and I still wasn't speaking to my dad. 

So I started seeing this therapist, I stopped taking the drugs as much but never told her about them. I got semi-diagnosed with Atypical Depression and they were thinking maybe psychotic depression (PMD).

 Then we had ACT testing, I took two pills more than I'd ever taken and OD'd during the test. Honestly the scariest moment of my life. Just thinking about it I start to feel that way again, it was terrible. 

After that I stopped seeing the therapist and just turned back to the drugs. I became a liar and a terrible person, then Adrianne made me choose. Her friendship or the drugs. I chose the drugs over her. 

By this point Andi and I had become pretty good friends, she didn't know about any of this. Though she did know about the drugs but she didn't say anything. Adrianne and I stopped talking and I latched onto Andi.

Then summer started and I stopped taking the drugs completely, I didn't need them. Summer was amazing I didn't have any breakdowns or hear any voices or anything. Though admittedly I had started drinking occasionally. Then one night late July or early August I took a pill again, it was nice but not like before. School started (senior year!) and I took them every now and then but I started getting sick when I would take them like for 2 days I would get sick. 

Then in October I went looking for Cocaine, Andi found out and pretty much freaked out on me. She, like Adrianne,  made me choose; her or the drugs. This time I chose her. (This is also right about the time that I started to like her ;) ). 

Every now and then I start to feel a little depressed again and I will probably never completely be completely rid of the depression but as long as I know I have someone to turn to when I need someone there I'll be okay. So that's kind of my life story, I hope you enjoyed it :P It was actually very hard to write.

Oh and by the way, I've been clean for 8 months now :)

Love,

Michelle