I think I have depression... Trying to figure out how to tell my parents...

I've had symptoms of depression since September, always being sad and not being motivated to do anything. I've had suicidal thoughts and all that... I even cut myself once... I figure it's time to tell my parents, but I don't know what their reaction would be... I'm going to tell my mom first, since she seems more accepting. I was thinking about giving her a letter, and here's what I wrote:

Dear Mom,

I know another letter from me is probably the last thing you want to see, but I’ve had a lot on my mind as of late. There’s something I’ve been dealing with that I can’t hold in anymore. For almost an entire year, I’ve been dealing with depression… and I need help…

At first, it was nothing more than bouts of feeling sad, but as time went on, I found myself feeling stronger feelings of depression. After that, it started happening more often. Maybe once every week. But by the end of the school year, it became more frequent. Twice a week… Sometimes even three… If I was unlucky, it’d be four. A couple times, I had three-day bouts of it. And then, when I got back from Germany, it got worse. Every day since the Saturday after I got back, I’ve been deep in depression.

Depression can get pretty bad for me… Some days, I can’t even get out of bed… and every day, it’s a struggle to even do simple tasks like do the dishwasher or clean the bathroom… Can you imagine how hard it is for me to get out and mow the lawn or go work at Matt’s house? It makes me so exhausted… But no matter how exhausted I get from putting forth such monumental effort, I can never fall asleep… At least I can’t fall asleep until like two or three in the morning… and then when I do fall asleep, I wake up like every hour from nightmares I don’t even remember. And then, I end up sleeping until around ten o’clock if I can because I’m so tired.

And once I wake up, if no one’s home, I just sit on my bed, trying as hard as I can to get out, but I never can until around eleven o’clock. And then I have to keep myself from eating, because I know if I start eating, I won’t be able to stop till I’ve eaten myself sick. I’ve done it a couple times. And there have also been times where I’ve not eaten anything until dinner because I can’t bear the thought of eating myself sick. At times, I also find very little enjoyment in things I used to like so much. There are times when I cannot enjoy video games, writing, or drawing.

It’s not only that. I’ve also cut myself before… It was an attempt to try and make my emotional pain real, but it only worked for a few minutes… and then I had to deal with all the emotional pain again… And I’ve also had to deal with thoughts of committing suicide… I’ve constantly thought about ending my own life just to stop all this pain… It’s gotten to the point where I can barely deal with it anymore. I’m running out of energy to keep on trying, and I don’t want to run out… I don’t want to give up on life… but I always wonder why I shouldn’t… I always wonder why I should keep going when my friends are the only people who actually love me for who I am…

That’s the cause of all this… I don’t feel like you guys love me anymore… Ever since I came out to you as gay in January, I feel like you guys don’t love me for who I am… I know you guys love me… but I don’t know if you love me for me… I’m pretty sure you don’t… What I think is that you guys love me for the Cameron that you thought wasn’t gay, not the one you know is gay… I know you guys despise the thought of me being gay, but the thought of you guys not loving me because of it is what’s causing all this.

That, and I’m terrified of you and Dad… I really am… I do one thing wrong, I get lectured or talked to in such a stern voice that it actually hurts… In a normal situation, I’d be able to handle all of that, but with the depression making everything worse, I can’t even handle a single stern comment, let alone an entire lecture about what I should be doing or what I shouldn’t be doing… so please, when we talk about this letter, I don’t want to be lectured about anything. Not about how I know you guys love me and not about how I should suck it all up. I don’t want any lectures, because I can’t handle them right now.

And about killing myself… I don’t want to think like that… but I can’t help it… I often think this: “If I were to kill myself, you wouldn’t have a son, yes, but at least you wouldn’t have a gay son. That’s all you ever wanted, right? All you wanted was to have the perfect family. Katie isn’t gay. So you can have the perfect family without me.” This is serious… I don’t want to think like this, but every time I do, I just get closer and closer to slicing my wrists or plunging a knife into my heart or something that would end my life for good. I don’t find any point in living if I’m not going to be loved by my parents…

And please don’t tell me that being gay is a sin, because I cannot handle that, nor do I care about what Catholicism says about being gay. All I need is to talk to you about this, because you’re the only one who can get me any help.

I’d also like to give you some links… These are poems and other writings that I either very much relate to or that I wrote:

Depression by ~pixijane on deviantART
Reminders by ~pixijane on deviantART
You've Got a Friend in Me by ~Sonadowlover121 on deviantART (A friend on deviantART wrote this for me.)
Can I Give Up Now? by ~pixijane on deviantART
Depression... by ~MikkiMarie on deviantART
When I'm Gone by ~MikkiMarie on deviantART
Repetitions by ~pixijane on deviantART
Blue by ~pixijane on deviantART
A Smile by ~TailsLuver2200 on deviantART
To Cry Again by ~TailsLuver2200 on deviantART
Why? by ~TailsLuver2200 on deviantART

I relate to all of these. Every single one. I know, that’s a lot of stuff to relate to, but that’s how I feel. That’s how I feel all the time.

And please… don’t tell Dad until you and I talk… Please… I’m so, so terrified of him… I can’t even put it into words how scared I am of him and his reactions to everything I do… I feel like he’ll be mad at me for having depression… Even if he won’t, just don’t tell him until you and I have talked… Please…

All of this being said… I need some kind of help… Whether it’s therapy or medication or whatever… I need help… Get me to a doctor or something like that… Please… I need some kind of help to make sure I don’t have these feelings every day… because I really don’t… I hate it… I absolutely hate it… So please, show me that you still love me and get me some help…

Is this a good letter? If not, I need some advice about what to put on there. Thanks in advance.

 

All right, thanks to you two. I'm gonna try and email it to my mom tomorrow. Wish me luck. I'll need it.