My strange behavior started somewhere in July of last year. My behavior has only gotten worse and harder to control since.

First of all, I am 15, two months until 16. I have never been a social person. All my life I have been the outcast. While everybody else was talking and hanging out, I was in the corner minding my own business. Throughout all of middle school I stayed basically alone and oblivious to the world that was not me.

Come Freshman year, I start doing things: I join marching band, swim, and track. I have good grades. Some friends. Ends well. Come Sophomore year. I do band again. But something is different. I notice more. See more. I see how I am alone compared to everyone else, how they all talk and how I still spend my spare time wandering alone and talking to myself. I decide this will be the year that changes. This will be the year George will try and not be the lonely one.

Funny to think about that now.

The first football game comes along. I have practiced my music, and I am prepared. I am in the front ensemble. We don’t march, but everybody sees and hears what we do. A mistake is noticeable. We warm up and I screw up. A lot. I start freaking out. A lot. Too much. The halftime show starts and I’m up. I fuck up. What do I do? Push my vibe back to the trailer, and sit in the stands. I don’t even play the cymbals. I love the cymbals, but I just lay there.

This was the start of my 3 month long depression period.

Over the course of those three months, I start avoiding the people that I would have been friends with. My grades start dropping hard. I nearly failed all my classes when I am usually a straight A student. I start getting paranoid. I start thinking what is wrong with me? I start looking up personality tests, study psychology, look up disorders and what not. I start going insane. Then it happens.

The last event.

Final marching band competition. I do ok. But that doesn’t matter. Our director gives a speech I don’t even hear it. I feel dead. I can’t feel anything. I go home and when I sleep and wake up I thought I was actually dead and went to hell. Then I ate my cereal and went on like nothing happened.

Come swim season.

I start swimming and things feel good. I feel fine and alright. I feel normal. But I’m still depressed. That’s the thing: you either feel like death and want to rip yourself up with a chain blade or you feel like nothing is wrong. I get snapchat. Mistake. I start posting messages outing people for no reason. On my story. My paranoia gets so bad that I turn friends against me and only hurt myself. The anger is setting in and my fucks are running way to low.

Then Christmas break happens.

A chance to set myself straight and act like I’m sane. I get back to school and It’s even worse. I want to die I want to die. I want to rip my fucking head off. Why am I writing this it wont help this is useless useless useless I want to kill someone this typing is hurting my head and fingers help. My thought process goes like this from there on out. Anyway fuck all of you who didn’t read this and anybody that tries to help fuck you. Can everybody just go fuck yourselves. I’m not deleting this because I want you all to know you can suck a bag of dicks and I don’t care if my friends hate me and my life is ruined and I’m just running away from my fears and hoping that maybe someone will save me please why won’t they even look my way they hate me I they are the reason I’m like this just stop stop stop stop stop stop stip stock tick tock fuck that stupid clock puzzle and fuck the banquet I don’t care that I’m locked in my room and noone cares and I’ sorry.