
wait.what
no really, what?
- Aug 14, 2020
- 990
I started having problems around the time I started school, in September of 1977. The event that finally wrecked me was April 20, 1981, when I learned a neighborhood boy in my grade had been hit by a car and killed over the weekend. I didn't witness it, but a friend's brother did, and I got way too graphic a description of the scene from my friend. I heard about it on the bus on the way to school, and by midday I was already descending into my first real clinical depression. I've been mentally ill pretty much ever since.
Obviously, I had more going against me before and since the neighbor boy died, but it's sort of interesting I can name the exact day. It'll be 40 years ago this April. I should celebrate. I could have a depressiversary party, and invite no one.
Obviously, I had more going against me before and since the neighbor boy died, but it's sort of interesting I can name the exact day. It'll be 40 years ago this April. I should celebrate. I could have a depressiversary party, and invite no one.