Don't Let It Get To You

Most people who meet me now wouldn't believe that 2 years ago I was so depressed that I would spend hours scraping the paint off my bedroom wall with my fingernails, I did this instead of taking my life.
Yes, there were good times; I'd say my life probably wasn't much worse than most peoples'. The problem was that I was sick with depression. I thought my life was worthless and pointless and all the rest. I'd walk through crowds of people with my head down trying my best not to meet anyone's gaze; I was sure they were all laughing at me. How could they not be? I had this voice in my head telling me over and over that I did not fit in, did not belong here.
I remember one time when I was about 14. I was walking along the street actually feeling pretty good. I was smiling at people and they were smiling back. I was laughing and they would laugh with me. Then, something just clicked. Nothing spectacular happened, one moment I was fine and the next I wasn't. Their laughter was at me, not with me. They were smiling out of pity. The tears came and they would not stop.
When I got home I remember thinking that this was it; it was time to end it. My rational mind was coming through the depressive thoughts. With tears still trickling down my face. When I got that depressed that I scratched 25% of the paint on my bedroom wall, I was hitting the drugs & booze trying to over come it ,but it got worse.
Then I just sat there. I leant against my bedroom wall exhausted. Too weary to cry any more, too tired to even stand on my own. I stumbled to my bed to rest. I didn't sleep, I laid there thinking. I could see it was my depression that spawned those thoughts. Rationally I knew they were ridiculous. I knew then that I needed help.
I went back to my counselor a few days after that and told her what had happened. We talked about ways I could really commit to beating this thing. With a combination of medication and cognitive therapy (changing my thought processes) I learned techniques to quell the irrational thoughts my depression was bringing up. I learned to really focus on my thoughts and asses them for what they were. When I thought everyone was laughing at me I made my self stop and really consider it. Why would they? I learned how to counter negative thoughts with positive thoughts that were actually based in reality.
It took a while but I did get better. I still do get depressed some times and occasionally thoughts of harming my self come back. The thing is, I know how to deal with it now and I know the difference between depressive thoughts and ones that are actually based in reality. It seemed hopeless at the time, but I'm really glad I didn't give up. I am so glad now that I did not give up because the advice my brother gave me was to be there for his son who is now 2 yrs old.