Confessions of a Former USM Junkie

I suppose a handful of people have been wondering where I've been for the past few months. There isn't really an answer to that. I've just been living my life, or trying to, for the past few months. And when I say trying to... I literally mean trying to.

Things haven't been so good for me. The only person who knows what I mean is my Angel, Rainbow Angel. She really has been an Angel for me -- someone who is looking out for me when I need it most and then some. She's always, always been a shoulder for me to cry on and an ear for me to whisper in. She's a blessing from above. I just thought that right here I should insert my thanks toward her and every ounce of strength she has given me over the years.

I remember a point in my life where I couldn't get enough of USM. My favorite people were here -- people I looked up to, people I didn't like, people I felt connected with, and people I loved as my own blood. But slowly, my favorite people went away. I tried my hardest to stay around after my two best friends on this website left. It wasn't that easy for me and I soon began to lose all perspective of why I came here at all. So I did what came naturally and I stopped coming.

It wasn't just that they were gone. My life began to unravel late last year. I did my best to keep my sanity, but it was very hard for me and in the spring of 2003, I just stopped caring. I felt I had nothing to care about, including USM. I lost a very close friend of mine, also known as my boyfriend, and it hit me hard that our relationship ended the way it did. I gave a very long ammount of time to him and when it ended it was terribly hard on me. But even after that, I still told myself I was fine.

It wasn't until my best friend left that I felt as if I was losing control over my life. My best friend Mike, who is a proud member of the 101st Airborne Division, was 17 years old when he gave me the news that he would be sent to Kuwait. He wasn't even 18 years old and he was telling me that he would have his CIB (Combat Infantryman's Badge). He was so excited that I had to smile when he told me, although a part of me was trembling in fear. I never wanted him to see war, but he did. He reached Kuwait on his 18th birthday. But before he even saw the front lines he was finding out that not everyone, even his fellow soldiers, were for the war. He was stationed at Camp Pennsylvania when an American soldier took it upon himself to use several grenades on his camp.

As you can imagine, even from America war isn't easy on anyone. I was 16 years old, I was already upset over my relationship ending, and my best friend was clear across the globe. My friends and family were literally watching my sanity slip away from me every day. I was in a panic every moment I was awake, running on little hours of sleep and even less food, trying to find out any information I could get about the war. I lasted 3 weeks before I finally had a mental break down in English class and looking back on it, I'm surprised I had lasted 5 days. My family and I checked myself into a mental hospital 3 hours after I began to sob uncontrollably and wouldn't stop.

I'm doing very well, now. I'm slowly getting myself together back to the way I used to be. I know I can't be the exact person I was even 6 months ago, but I can try. I miss being carefree and naive and thinking that nothing in the world would ever bring me down. I know that depression can though, and I'm not foolish enough to believe that if I stop taking my medications the depression won't come back. I know that depression will always be a part of my life, whether I like it or not. I cannot beat it, but I can live with it and cope with it. Adaptation is the key to life. If you don't adapt, you won't survive and I want to survive. So badly.

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