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I have dealt with depression and bipolar disorder since I was 12 years old. My childhood was not the best as I never really had a childhood. I never knew what it was like to actually live on my own and be an adult by the age of 13. I also had to take care of my younger sisters and my older brother, who had mental issues.
That was just the beginning of my problems. I got married and pregnant by the age of 17 before moving back home with my mother. I gave her custody of my eldest and after that, she put me back on the streets. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know how to survive, I had to make it on my own. I was in and out of shelters or wherever I could sleep. It felt like nobody cared so it got to the point where I was trying to find love wherever I could. It was never actually love, it was just needing to know that I was protected at the moment.
Read more: Depression and Bipolar Disorder Suck
Times got rough so my husband and I separated, officially divorcing in 2004. I got with another guy who had three kids, and as I said, I never knew what it was like to have a family so I got scared. At the time, my youngest three kids were 4 years old, 3 years old, and one year old. I got scared and didn’t think that I could take care of them, so I took them to Child Protective Services.
I was sleeping in emergency rooms with my kids, so I thought I was doing the right thing after I lost them to the system. My 4-year-old daughter was molested in a foster home and I blamed myself for the longest time. I was trying to cope with that but my coping skills were not the best.
I began running the streets, sleeping with this man and sleeping with that man. I’m not proud of anything I did but in 2015, I thought I had finally found somebody who wanted me for me. I was with this man for a year-and-a-half. However, four months into our relationship, I got really, really sick and I didn’t understand why. So, I went to the doctor to see what was wrong.
On September 29, 2015, I was diagnosed with HIV. When I told the guy that I was with, he just started crying. I asked him why he was crying and all he could tell me is that he should have told me that he was sick. For someone who was telling me that they really love me, I didn’t understand why this had happened. I started treatment shortly after but stopped for a while before starting the treatment again.
I can’t function with people because I’m scared of what people will think or say about me if they knew my situation. I still have issues with going out in public because I don’t want to be judged. I am getting better and as of now, I am officially undetectable. I am faithful to my medications.
I have a great man in my life but the depression still keeps me from being fully happy. I don’t know if I will ever be. I have tried over and over to overdose and cut myself. I even had thoughts about not wanting to wake up anymore but no, everyone tells me that I have kids to look forward to. However, I don’t see them because my kids hate me and I know they have so many bad thoughts about me. Honestly, I don’t even want to go around them.
I haven’t seen my family in 6 years and when I was on the street, no one cared to call or check up on me. I try to tell myself I’m strong but I’m not as strong as people think. Well, I am but I’m trying to get better now and all I can do is keep trying.