This is Difficult

This is very difficult to say but for the sake of myself and everyone else in the world feeling how i’m feeling, I have to speak… or in this case, write. First off, let me introduce myself. The name is Tamir. We’ll just go by first names for now. My name is Tamir and i have a severe case of depression. For those who call me a friend or a family member, they thought that my depression had gone away a couple of years ago, what they didn’t know is that i can hide and bury my true feelings so deep and so far away, they need a excavating team and a hypnotist just to find them. Now you’re probably wondering why i have severe depression and why i’m deciding to write about it. To tell you the truth, writing this was a spontaneous thought that i decided to put into action. How i came to have depression, well that’s a long story that we’ll have plenty of time to explore. I’ll give you the beginning of how it happened though.

It was a cold winter’s night…. nahhh i’m messing with you. Just because i’m depressed doesn’t mean i don’t know humor. How my depression really started, or how it finally grew strong enough to actually effect me, started in September 2012. 

It was early in my last year as a highschooler and i couldn’t have been more excited. I was finally done with all the drama that came with being a highschooler, even though i loved listening to the foolishness that all these white kids would go through, it was relieving that i wouldn’t have to hear it constantly, but before we delve deep into my destroyed, disturbing mind, i have to describe how i was and how i looked back then. Picture a 6ft. black kid, balder than your grandpa, fatter than your fat aunt, and had the worst personality any person in the world could ask for; being a NICE GUY. Oh yeah, i was reminded constantly about how black i was… like how i was blacker than midnight, or blacker than a burnt match, or how if i were to walk at night no one would ever spot me. Yeahhhhhh, those were good times. Nowadays, us young folks call all those insults “roasting”, and if you didn’t have a comeback or would utter a word, it would get worse. Now i know what you’re wondering,  “did you have a comeback, did you roast them back, what’d you do man!” What did i do? OOOOOOOOOH MAN LET ME TELL YOU WHAT I DID… absolutely nothing. I just would stand there and smile and say “you right” and laugh with those who were taunting me. This definitely added more fuel to my small depression fire, but we’ll get back to that later. 

One thought on “This is Difficult”

  1. I am sorry for your depression. Thankful you have a sense of humor, that helps so much with everything. I am interested to hear more of your story, dear. I’m a 65 year old white woman. And I care.

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