Updated: 5 days ago
This is going to be a difficult read. It is going to be incredibly personal. It is going to be a long, stream of consciousness, putting you in my 15 year old head. I think it's important for me to post, however, because it not only cements my progress in my own eyes, but it stands as proof that it's possible to dig yourself (with help, of course) out of the endlessly deep pit that is being depressed. You can get better. It does get better. Life is worth living. I. Promise.
I'm going to provide/link some UK-based resources (phone #'s, websites) for help with depression and anxiety at the end of this in case you or anyone you know may need them! If none of these are suitable to you, please don't hesitate to reach out to me on Facebook or something. I'm more than happy to chat, give advice, or just sit and be an outlet, whatever works.
Jordan Kupfer, 10/4/15
Hi! My name is Jordan Kupfer. I’m currently a 15 year old boy from Los Angeles. If you’re reading this, that’s cool. Maybe this ended up on the internet at some point after I wrote it. I don’t know. The reason I’m writing this is because I need a way to voice my feelings. But here’s the problem. Typically, I’d tell this to a friend or my current girlfriend, but no one really gets it.
I’m pretty depressed. I’ll go into more details in a bit, but I’m a very unstable and sad person at the moment.
There are literally zero people who understand depression fully. I have a friend who also suffers from depression. But she doesn’t experience it in the exact way I do. Sure, we share some awful feelings in common, but no one truly knows what I mean.
So, Reader, I’m going to try to voice my feelings to you because frankly, it’s the only thing stopping me from killing myself brutally or drinking myself to death right now.
I’m not okay, clearly demonstrated by the 2 sentences above. My life is a fucking mess. Well, to be honest, it’s not. My life is actually really great. And in the eyes of a normal person, I should be the happiest person alive. I live in a nice house, I have plenty of great possessions, amazing parents, amazing friends, an awesome girlfriend, I’m doing well in school, and I’m enjoying myself. But at the same time, my life is shit. See, I have awful acne. Now maybe by the time you’re reading this, it’s gone. As for now though, I’ve been on acutane for two months. Acutane, if you don’t know, is an extremely strong acne medicine that requires a prescription and blood tests and crazy things. It’s widely disputed because it’s rumored to cause crones disease or induce- you guessed it- depression. Now I’m not saying acutane is the reason I’m depressed, but it may be a contributor. I noticed symptoms of depression before I went on acutane, but it didn’t get really bad until about a week on the pill. But keep in mind, at this point in my life, I had also just started my sophomore year in high school with 2 APs, band at 7 in the morning, competitive marching band on weekends and during weekdays, and a 7th period drumline. If you don’t know, that’s A LOT OF STUFF. So perhaps that was the cause of this dogshit.
“What’s really bad about depression?” you might ask. Well all those great things in my life I listed before? Yeah, they don’t make me happy anymore. I mean they do, but all at the same time, I can’t shake the feeling that it all means nothing and that I’m worthless. And this is impossible to describe to people because it just sounds so stupid. Believe me, I know it is. But it’s how I feel. I’m not crazy. I’m not some selfish douchebag looking for attention, I just want to voice how depression feels. Fucking awful. That’s how it feels.
When the bad symptoms first REALLY hit, I went through episodes. But now, it’s becoming more and more like an all the time thing, not episodes. I start feeling like nothing makes me happy and that I mean nothing. Everything is stupid and awful. These feelings also bring a few symptoms. I become extremely irritable, I can’t sleep, I have a desire to drink alcohol or do drugs, and more recently, kill myself. I don’t know why. I don’t understand it. There’s nothing wrong with my life. It’s honestly as best as it could be for a sophomore in high school. Yet I want to die.
That makes no sense. I know. Trust me, I get why you say that. But in my mind, it doesn’t need to make sense. There’s literally nothing causing me to feel this way, yet I do. Therefore, I’ve given up on sense. I’ve given up on understanding. I’ve given up on life.
I know I need help. But the problem with that is that NO ONE GETS IT. Everyone thinks you’re some idiot who’s just looking for attention. And that’s why society fucking sucks. But that’s a discussion for another time. Depression is getting in the way of my life. I don’t want to be around people anymore much. I don’t want to do work. I’m not motivated. I feel terrible. I want to cry all the time. I haven’t cried since like elementary school. I don’t cry. That’s not me. And the fact that I feel like crying let’s me know that there’s something wrong with me. If you can’t understand or relate to anything else in this “essay,” maybe you get that.
I’ve never tried to kill myself. I’ve never thought about it. But now there are suicidal thoughts in my head almost all the time. And it’s because I feel awful. I don’t know how to escape this feeling without drugs or alcohol or death. And I don’t want to die because then people will be like, “Why would you kill yourself, you stupid attention seeking asshole?” and I can’t explain why because I’m fucking dead. So consider this a suicide note in the case I end up killing myself. THIS IS WHY I’M DEAD.
In the case I don’t kill myself, good for me! I’m now an alcoholic or addicted to drugs or something because I don’t know how else to escape my feelings. I’ve talked to some friends about it. But that’s a very temporary solution. And so are drugs and alcohol but that numbs the pain a lot more and for a bit longer. And this is where suicide comes in. That removes the pain permanently.
I’ve realized life is a nightmare. There’s little enjoyment to it. And what little enjoyment I had is now crushed by my awful feelings of despair. I’m a fucking mess. My life is a mess. I don’t know what to do. I don’t think anyone would give a shit if I killed myself. They’d say, “Wow that was crazy. I knew that guy.” Then the next day, they won’t give a shit. I’m just a fleeting memory that had like no influence on them or their lives or the world.
Life is torture. It’s so unbearably hard to make it through one single day of school. I want to yell and cry and make people understand, but no one will.
I haven’t hurt myself physically, unless you consider weed and vodka physical harm. Some people do, which is weird considering they give me relief and happiness. This is why I’m not okay. Because depression makes me feel terrible about my life when in reality, it’s amazing and it forces me to resort to illegal and unhealthy methods of avoiding feeling this way. Which is bad. I understand a large part of the problem is me not telling my parents and getting help, but that will only make things complicated and annoying and further impede my attempts to succeed in life and in school. Then again, depression does the same thing…
But see, I don’t want to burden my parents with my shitty feelings. I don’t want to burden anyone with this. And it’s an awful feeling to think that you’re just a burden to people. I know people like me, but… I can’t think anymore. This whole thing is just… I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. This is the pain I have to suffer every. Second. Of my wretched existence.
The point of this is to demonstrate the feelings I have because there’s no other real, solid way to get them out. I want to cry because of no reason. I want to escape feelings I have for no reason. I want to die for no reason. There’s nothing causing my despair, yet it’s all so real. I can’t feel happy anymore. Nothing truly brings me joy. This has taken over my life and now I see no point to living. Yet for now, I’ll struggle through my insane loads of homework and stress, my awful feelings and thoughts, and my “shitty” life.
-Jordan Kupfer, 10/4/15
So it’s been 2 days since I last wrote this. I’m going to continue writing on this whenever I’m feeling not so great. Ultimately, I ended up not killing myself. Yay. But I’m still in an awful state… and I don’t think that’s going to change anytime soon. If this does end up on the internet someday, I want it to help people understand depression and how it affects people, and how those people are effected over a period of time, hence this is going to be written in periodically, like a journal I guess.
I’m still sad. Really sad. And it’s honestly really hard for me to get through a day of school. The past 2 days have been pretty shitty. I talked to my girlfriend about my suicidal thoughts but I don’t know everything is just… bad. I’m irritated. All the time. I just can’t stand people anymore. This whole thing has been really bad for my social life and my education and really just everything about me. I don’t know what to do. I should probably tell my parents and like get help and stuff, but it just makes life more complicated. As if things aren’t complicated enough…
I get that people care about me though. That’s cool, but that doesn’t make me happy anymore. I laugh a lot but… it doesn’t mean much. I can’t focus on anything still. The only thing that’s really changed is my thoughts on suicide. I mean, I never wanted to do it, and I never committed, but there were a few hours on the 4th where I was keen on going through with it. And that’s one reason I started writing this, to distract myself from my horrible thoughts.
That’s what I have to deal with all the time though. Horrible thoughts and sadness. That’s what depression is. And nothing seems to make it go away forever…
-Jordan Kupfer, 10/6/15
I’ve felt a bit better recently. I stress out about a lot of things and I’m very paranoid about my whole life, which really sucks. I went 5 days without an episode, until Friday (today is Sunday). But since then I’ve been okay. At least I have friends to console me.
That’s great and all but they don’t know how to help me. I don’t know how either. They try, I tell them it won’t work, they turn away, and then I get mad that they don’t care about me. It’s a douche cycle that I’m honestly not in control of.
I still want to ball my eyes out right now. I don’t know why. My relationship is good. My friendships are good. Everything is good, except for my mental state, of course. But I’m not going to cry. I never do to be honest. No matter how badly I want to, it never really happens… Guess that says a lot about me as a person.
And whenever I reach that though up there, about not crying and all, I start thinking that maybe I’m not really a person and I’m just some awful monster. I mean, I know I’m not but… it’s hard not to feel that way. Especially because I feel like people only talk to me to try to make me feel better. No one really talks to me anymore for fun. I’m “too negative” and I depress people. Shit, my bad. Sorry for having an uncontrollable medical condition that turns me into a sad fuck. I apologize for rubbing off on you.
Sorry, that was really passive-aggressive. But I need to let out my irritability and anger that way. Otherwise I’ll keep it bottled up and yell at some 4-year old for walking too close to me, or some bullshit like that. I don’t know… this whole thing makes me very irrational, which sucks because I was always proud of being a rational and logical person.
I wish people just understood how I felt. Or like they could read my mind or something. Maybe then I wouldn’t be such a burden to people or I wouldn’t appear as some crazy depressed dumbass to them. Is that how people view me? Probably not, honestly, but my mind can’t help but feel that way. Sorry for thinking that no one likes me because I am how I am…
I don’t know whom I can talk to anymore really. It almost seems like no one cares. Seriously though. The second I stop being sad or I feel better, everyone just decides “Oh okay, Jordan stopped bitching about his feelings, so we shut him up for a good while. Let’s go suck each other’s dicks or something. Hahaha, nice! Up top bros!” At least I’d like to think it goes like that, even though some of the people I’m referring to are girls. Girls can suck each other’s dicks dude, it’s possible.
That got off topic… Point is, I feel like people don’t give two shits about talking to me at all, they just tell me nice things when I’m feeling shitty so I’ll shut up and they can go enjoy themselves without me for a while. That’s not even me being irrational. Some people don’t talk to me much anymore. They make no effort to converse with me or even include me in a conversation, even if I’m in a group just because this person is there.
Actually, that may be the depression talking but the worst part is I can’t actually tell. Sometimes, that theory seems really accurate. If this is just me being paranoid and sad, this is what social situations with depression genuinely feel like. And it’s butt. Only now am I really seeing and feeling the social repercussions of this whole thing, and it sucks.
I’m a social person, I like being social. I mean, not anymore, obviously. If people don’t want to be around me then that’s totally cool, I’ll fly to New York and get adopted off the streets by some middle class white family. Which honestly sounds okay if I can get away from the people that don’t want me here. All in favor say “I.”
I swear around 150 people collectively yelled “I” at their computer screens or their Euro history textbooks or some shit. And if they didn’t, then alright I won’t run away to New York. But I’m still thinking about it .
Running away to New York is definitely better than suicide. Actually, that’s debatable in my mind because if I go to New York, I’ll still feel this way, and that’s what I’m trying to avoid, really. The awful social rejection, the lack of motivation, and the actual dogshit feeling of being depressed. But I had a long talk with my girlfriend and to be honest, I think the only reason I didn’t end it last week was because she talked to me about it, and I didn’t want to devastate her. Also, I was really positive for the first time in months. I felt I was going to stick it to depression and that I have to live up to that for her.
However, that was the only time I felt like she gave a shit about me. The next day, it was like nothing happened, and we went back to the old “You only exist when you’re sad so I can shut you up” and the classic “I know you’re sitting with my friends and I so you can hangout with me but I’m going to make sure I only start conversations with my friends and not include you in them. Cool?”
I’m fairly confident I’m just a paranoid asshole and that’s not at all what happened, but it fucking feels that way. It’s not even her fault either. It’s mostly my fault. I mean, sure, I could use a little more actual conversation, but it’s not as bad as I made it sound. Now that I said that, you may think “Well fuck, you’re probably over exaggerating everything you said in this paper.” Well I assure you, kind Reader, that everything I have said has truthfully been EXACTLY how I felt at the time I wrote it. Regardless of whether it’s actually true, it’s how I feel. And that’s the whole point of this paper/essay/whatever the fuck this is. To let the reader know exactly how I feel. Awful. That’s how I feel .
-Jordan Kupfer, 10/11/15
Man, was this week shitty. On Monday, I think I spent about 90% of the day wanting to kill myself. Which isn’t even an exaggeration… I was so fucking stressed. I seriously wanted to die. Literally, all of math I wanted to just jump off the balcony. I didn’t, obviously, but it was pretty tempting. And today, Thursday the 22nd, I wanted to kill myself again. I got a psychologist that I talk to and I saw him today, but I still want to die.
This whole thing sounds ridiculous but it’s just all too real for me. I’ve never wanted to kill myself this badly this is just… I don’t know. I’m not okay. Like extremely not okay. I was driving to the psychologist/therapist and I nearly got out of the car and jumped off a nearby bridge. I really wanted to, honestly.
Every minor issue in my life just got amplified and it made everything so unbearable. Everything sucks. Like literally everything is fucking hell. I seriously need to escape this horrible nightmare I was born into. Life has just turned into some shitty nightmare and I can’t wait to wake up. And the only way to wake up is to die.
See how fucked up this whole thing has become? Very fucked up. I don’t know what to do. The therapist thing only helps temporarily. Everything else just stresses me out and piles up on me and I need a break.
I’m off acutane. Nothing has changed. So… maybe it is just me. Maybe my mind is actually fucked up. Whatever. Either way I’m depressed and suicidal… and nothing is going to change that.
-Jordan Kupfer, 10/22/15
Okay, I totally forgot about this “journal” thing. It’s been like 6 months. That was fast. Wow, okay, that’s actually really scary. These 6 months have gone by FAST.
Well, since, I’m writing this, let me sum up the past 6 months!
My girlfriend and I broke up. I was pretty fucked up for a while, not gonna lie. There was about a week of suicidal thoughts, almost non-stop. But, things got better. Around January, I had been feeling consistently good for almost 2 weeks, until this one night I had crazy suicidal thoughts. From then on, it had been the usual on and off feelings, but I wasn’t suicidal. Which was great! I was non-suicidal for about a month or two until last week or 2 weeks ago. Then the thoughts came back. Something happened last week, I’m not sure what, though.
Point is, last week, I felt depressed non-stop the whole time. But something was different. I had no energy, no motivation, every time I laughed or smiled, it felt forced. That brought up this interesting thing in therapy: what if I’m trying to conform to the way I think I SHOULD feel and in doing so I’m repressing my awful depressing thoughts and they’re all being bottled up? Honestly, that theory would make a lot of sense. As of right now, I’m feeling okay. Not happy, but not depressed luckily.
It’s been a bit harder for me to enjoy hanging out with people. I don’t feel like I’m having fun anymore, regardless of who I’m spending time with. I, in case you weren’t aware, play music. A LOT. But recently, I haven’t been enjoying it. Music used to be my escape and it used to keep me going. But now, it’s a burden on me and I don’t think it’s that fun anymore.
I’m doing all right in school currently. Last semester I got straight A’s which was AMAZING. This semester, I haven’t been doing as well, but I’m going to try and get straight A’s again (hopefully).
Oh, also, I got my driver’s permit, which is great. Driving gives me a sort of rush, almost a release from my awful thoughts and feelings, which is weird to me. But yeah that’s pretty cool. Other than that, things have been pretty dull.
I’ve lost motivation and interest in school, music, and even my friends. I really don’t know what to do. I still get awful thoughts and feelings but I don’t know how to escape them. I haven’t smoked or drank or anything like that recently (except I had some edibles the last 2 weekends). But none of it has given me much of a release. I don’t necessarily feel “happy” anymore.
At least, I don’t feel the happy I used to. It’s something else now, It’s forced and it has a sort of weight on it. I don’t like it. I don’t like the way I feel any time of the day. It’s either “happy” or depressed and they both suck. I’m less actively suicidal than I used to be though, so that’s good. I still get those thoughts occasionally, just not as often. But when they do come, they can get pretty bad.
I don’t know… my life is just really stupid right now and I’m waiting for things to get better but I don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon… I just need to be patient. Normally, I’d be good at that. But when it comes to being patient for waiting to not feel so shitty it’s kinda hard. Did I say kinda hard? I meant very hard. It’s a little harder to write about it right now because I feel “happy” so I’m gonna stop for now. Next time I’m feeling depressed, I’ll come back.
-Jordan Kupfer, 4/5/16
It’s been 3 months since my last entry. Umm, a lot has happened. I’m on medication now. It’s not too high of a dose, and for a while it was working. But recently, it hasn’t been working as well. I feel pretty shitty. Right now, I’m at Oxford studying creative writing, which is fucking amazing. But for some reason, I feel like shit. It’s rather odd. I figured in England, I would be feeling awesome. Though it hasn’t been the way I’d hoped… I don’t know. The program is exactly what I wanted. The people are great it’s just… there’s a lot wrong with me, which was obviously established already, but I’m stating it again.
I’m not gonna lie, I’ve had suicidal thoughts recently. I’ve been thinking I should overdose… This is bad. It’s really bad. I want to cry right now, but I’m in a room with a bunch of people who are all happy and enjoying themselves. Honestly, it makes the experience a bit worse because everyone’s so happy and I’m so… not. I miss my friends and family and all, but at the same time I’m glad I don’t have to see them.
I’m doing a rather good job of pretending to be happy and acting normal. No one here knows about my condition, which is good honestly. I DIDN’T TAKE MY MEDICATION TODAY SHIT.
Okay I ran to my room and took it just now. It was weird leaving. I didn’t say anything but I smiled at people… Fuck this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I haven’t been able to sleep. Maybe it’s just jet lag? Everything is just so unclear right now.
I’m a little concerned these thoughts aren’t my own in a way. I keep repeating “I want to kill myself” in my head. I think I have to tell someone here. I need to talk to someone. I don’t know. I just don’t want anything to happen. I don’t want to do anything stupid. But thinking about it now, I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t wake up tomorrow. Not at all.
I’m hooking up with Mattie now. I really like her. She means a lot to me… I did well in school. Got a B in math but the rest were A’s. Nothing matters to me anymore. I’m gonna have to go get lunch with a bunch of people in 5 minutes and I’m concerned I’m gonna be like this… What if they find out I’m depressed? What are they gonna think of me? Fuck. FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. Had to let that out, sorry.
Something is extremely wrong with me. Right now especially. I should be having the time of my life, yet here I am nearly crying alone in my dorm, writing this fucking autobiography whatever the hell this is. I want to die. I really want to kill myself. I realized I hate myself. I do. I don’t want to exist anymore… I’ll um, write more later. I have to go.
-Jordan Kupfer, 7/4/16
So I’m back. England is really cool. I made a few more friends yesterday. We’ve ben doing some fun shit. I’m enjoying my writing class as well. It’s just… I don’t know. Yesterday, after my last entry, I told one of the staff members about how I was feeling and all that shit and it was good. He was really great about it. Afterwards, I went back to my dorm and I… I cut myself. I’ve never done it before, but it helped me… It felt good to have pain on the outside as opposed to just the inside. Sure, it was temporary, considering I feel awful now, but it helped.
I have these fucking cuts on my left wrist now and I’m really concerned someone is going to notice. What if they think I’m going crazy or something? A girl I’m friends with noticed how quiet I was at breakfast today. I guess people can tell when I’m depressed here.
I have an urge to cry. I have an urge to spill out all of my feelings to someone, but I’m not sure who. This just sucks. I love it here and all, but I just feel so terrible. Yesterday I kept trying to make myself cry (hence the cutting) and it just wouldn’t work. I couldn’t cry. I was just cutting my fucking wrist and punching the mirror out of anger because I didn’t know how else to release myself.
I really don’t want to be around people right now. I’m honestly not excited to go to class and talk and shit for 2 hours.
I’m… I don’t know. Fuck.
I can’t cry right now, though I really want to. I feel like I have to, as well. Maybe I’m depressed because I have no close friends here? Maybe I’m sleep deprived? Regardless, this fucking sucks.
Honestly, I want to cut myself again, but I’m probably not going to. Shit. Shit shit. Fuck. All right, I’m gonna go. Bye.
-Jordan Kupfer, 7/5/16
Jordan Kupfer, 7/9/16
I’m currently sitting in my class. Not gonna lie, I want to kill myself right now. I feel absolutely awful. It’s getting ridiculous. I’m afraid someone is gonna read this right now, but I really don’t care. I need to get my shit out. We’re discussing dialogue and I really want to pay attention, it’s just hard. I can’t focus. I’m tired. I just don’t feel like myself…
I’m concerned someone is gonna pick up on my emotions, and then I’ll have to talk about it, which is pretty much the last thing I want right now. It takes too much energy to smile…
I really can’t focus right now. I don’t wanna do anything. I want to sleep. I want to see Mattie… I really miss her. We haven’t talked a lot but every now then we message each other. There are other girls here that are cute and all, I just feel no attachment to them. It requires too much effort and frankly, I don’t have the energy or the motivation to try right now.
I need some fucking alcohol. So far, I’ve been relieving pain by cutting myself. And it helps. It feels good. I have to keep my left wrist hidden now. Sometimes people see it and I’m afraid they’ll figure out the truth. I want to cut more, but I don’t want anyone to see it. I’m stuck. I don’t know how to relieve my pain. Talking to people doesn’t help. Going out and being social makes it worse. Writing takes too much motivation, and I’ve lost my enthusiasm for everything.
I haven’t felt like myself for a long time now. I feel like talking about it might not be bad, but I’m concerned it’ll just get worse. I’m too silent right now, people might notice… This sucks. This really sucks. I just want to cuddle with Mattie and kiss her and just spend time with her.
I keep shaking my leg. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m nervous or just too fidgety I don’t know…
Pia is clearly bored. She just told me. Obviously she wants to have some sort of conversation but I just don’t have the energy to talk to anyone. My chest feels heavy. It’s a little hard to breathe. I still want to die…
I just don’t know anymore. I’m getting really tired of this. My fucking medication isn’t working anymore. I need more. I need to see my fucking psychiatrist. I need to tell Roy how I’m feeling. He’ll help me out.
Anna is talking and every time I hear her voice I die a little inside. Same with Rose. Both of them make me so irritated. Even when I’m not depressed, they make me cringe. Oh my god, they’re talking right now. My ears are going to fucking bleed. There’s too much noise right now. It’s too fucking loud. I need to sleep. I need to fucking cut myself. I need alcohol. I need weed. I just need to be happy.
-Jordan Kupfer, 7/9/16
Jordan Kupfer 8/24/20
It’s been a long, long time. Man, I have so many updates. Actually, way too many to put in here, but I’ll try to keep it short.
Briefly, my depression is still here. I still carry it with me, and for better or worse, it is still a part of me. But there’s an important distinction here: my depression is not me. As I read through this “journal” (whatever you wanna call it), it was honestly shocking– borderline terrifying– to realise that I was the person that wrote this. But now, I look back on it, and understand, concretely, how much progress I have made and…. Holy shit.
I’m proud of myself. I don’t say that, like, ever… but I’m really proud of myself.
Since I last wrote in here, I attempted suicide twice. Once in early August of 2016, and once in mid-October of the same year. For at least a year following that, I wished I had gone through with it. I spent ages, countless sleepless nights angry at myself for not having the balls to kill myself.
But now I’m grateful. Now I’m overjoyed, and proud, and excited to say that I am no longer that person. I’m not perfect, I’m not done growing, nor am I done with my battle with depression, but I’m way further down the road than I used to be.
Things got better my senior year of high school (2017-2018). The suicidal thoughts disappeared, and I only cut myself once the whole year (March of 2018) and enjoyed my last bit of time living under my parents’ roof and living in Los Angeles. I had an adventure and a half waiting in front of me, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine where it’d take me. For the first time in years, the thought of killing myself was no longer appealing.
I scored well on exams, I made it in to the astrophysics program at Edinburgh, and I shipped off to a new home 5,500 miles away. Don’t get me wrong, uni still had plenty of shit in store for me, and I’ve spent more than enough time feeling down and shitty even while I’ve been here. But it’s not nearly as frequent, and it’s nothing like it used to be 4 years ago. I’m effectively an entirely new person.
I’ve not shown this “piece,” if you can even call it that, to anyone. I myself hadn’t looked at it for ages before today. But I’m posting it because I want it to be a beacon of hope for anyone that needs it. I want people to truly believe and internalize that it absolutely does get better. I know it’s not easy. I know it takes time. I know it’s horrifying. But I also know that everyone is capable of growth. I also know that suicide doesn’t solve anything. I also know that progress if progress, the first step is the hardest, and that it gets easier from there. Every day is a challenge, but it gets less difficult to face as the days go by.
You don’t have to love where you are right now, or life in general, or really even yourself to know that you CAN be better. It’s an excruciatingly difficult journey, but I promise it is worth it. I doubted it would be for so long, but I promise. It. Is. Worth it.
I still get depressed. Fuck, I was depressed yesterday, now that I think about it, actually. It doesn’t feel the same, though. It’s lighter. My heart sinks into my chest, the sides of my mouth droop, as if being pulled into a frown by some invisible force. My mind wanders and dampens. But now, I know it’ll go away. I know I can get through it. Because I’ve done it a million times before, what’s facing it once more?
Please take care of yourself. Check in on your friends. Check in on your family. Be sad about the things that make you sad, allow yourself to face the pain and the struggle and power through it. Because you are strong, and you can do it. I know you can, even if it may not feel like it. I promise you can. If you don’t think you can do it on your own, reach out to a friend, someone you feel comfortable with. Fuck it, reach out to me! There 100% is light at the end of this dark, awful, horrible, disgusting tunnel. I know there is. I’m not there yet, but I can see it. I promise I’m not just lucky, I came back from the brink twice. I came back from whatever the fuck all that rambling above was. If I can do it, you absolutely can, too.
I hope everyone is doing well, and if you’re not, I know sometime down the road you will be. Take care.
-Jordan Kupfer, 8/24/20
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Students Against Depression- https://www.studentsagainstdepression.org/
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