Started dealing with depression when I was 11. Typical story, my mom left when I was 5. Dad tried his best. But thoughts got the best of me... Scars. So many scars. Too many to count. I lose track after 300 some no lie. It's sad. Now I'm about to leave the house and i'm still dealing with this depression. The loneliness, the hurt, the excruciating pain, the anxiety. It all kills me inside and here I am considered "so strong" when I'm about to crumble.