Whoever said emo was dead has obviously never been to this support group. I swear that six or seven of the kids in this dreary little room could easily support the entire trade of black nail polish and eye liner in the metro Chicago area, if not the entire state of Illinois. Not to mention there are so many of us wearing black that it feels a bit like a funeral. Maybe that is fitting in a way. Not many of us here really feel like living most of the time anyway.

I’ll be straight with you. That is exactly why I am here. I have tried to kill myself. More than once.

At 14, I was officially diagnosed with social anxiety disorder coupled with major depressive disorder. That means that not only do I damn near pass out at the mere thought of dealing with other people on a daily basis, I then feel extremely guilty and self-loathing about the fact I can’t even manage to interact with other human beings.

In the beginning I took a few different medications to try and “fix” myself, but only succeeded in completely wiping out any semblance of my personality. I was an emotional zombie; walking, talking, and responding like I was supposed to, but not feeling anything. No anxiety or fear, but also no joy or excitement. There was nothing, just a blank, empty husk of a person shuffling along from day to day. My sister, Sara, finally realized just how numb I had become when I was 16. That was when my parents were killed by a drunk driver. Rather than cry or scream or fall apart when she broke the news to me, I just sat there and said “Okay” and went back to doing my damned algebra homework. As my new guardian, she decided that heavy medications were obviously not the answer and opted to try some hardcore behavioral modification therapy. That turned out to be an epic disaster.

Once I detoxed from the meds, I became very angry and uncooperative. I blamed my problems on the world and decided I would rather retreat from everything than attempt to change my behavior. This fueled my new psychologists desire to punish my negative behaviors by limiting my ability to do the few things I actually found pleasure and happiness in: music, dogs, and reading. By taking away the things that allowed me to hold onto my sanity, even meekly, I ended up completely losing it.

That was when I first tried to die. It was a crude, spur of the moment attempt in which I hacked at my wrists with the blades from a disposable razor. I didn’t manage to do much in the way of physical damage, but I did earn myself a 2 week vacation to the local psych ward. Sara changed approaches after that, and for the last 3 years I have been subjected to a mix of classic cognitive behavior therapy (with a new, less venomous psychologist) and more homeopathic treatments like guided meditation, music therapy, and even “medicinal” herbal supplements.

I feel bad for my sister. She was 26 when my parents died and was thrust into the role of being solely responsible for a severely fucked up 16 year old teenager. She did the best she could with me, and in the end, I think it was seeing her break down after so many failed attempts at helping me that finally put me on the path to taking getting my shit under control more seriously. Sara met someone a few months ago and I know she wants to settle down with him, but as long as she has me and all my baggage hanging around her head, she won’t be able to. So I am trying harder.

It hasn’t been an easy ride - I have messed up more than a few times, attempting suicide twice more and getting tied up with prescription painkillers – and I still complain about a lot of the shit I am forced to do (like group therapy), but I honestly feel like I am actually taking back control of my life, however slowly.

So here I am, sitting in a damp, horribly fluorescent room tucked deep in the bowels of Mercy Hospital, staring at the floor, getting ready to get my group on with 12 other seriously fucked up young adults.

I can barely contain my excitement.

Notes

First Chapter - Trying to develop my Eve character a bit since she is a completely made up addition to the traditional Frerard/MCR Fan Fic world. I wanted to add her to give a bit of difference to the traditional Frerard Fan Fics that are available!!

Will probably update tomorrow with a couple chapters that have more meat to them and will introduce Frank and Gerard!

I know it is a basic first chapter, but I do welcome feedback :-)