This is not a made up story.
Two years ago, at the age of fifteen, I decided I'd had enough of life. I decided to kill myself, so I took an overdose of drugs. Fortunately, or unfortunately as I saw it at the time, they were the harmless type. I just got a bit sick. My mum thought it was spiritual so she sent me away to live with her sister who was a pastor for about a month. What she didn't know then, was that I was suffering from a mental illness. Anyway, I went, blah blah, I later returned home. After about a month, I started feeling low again. I felt like the world was against me, like no one cared. I would just sit down in the dark, curl up and cry. If my mum asked, I'd just give her an excuse, and I was good at that, 'I just watched a movie that was really sad', 'I just woke up', 'I fell and hurt myself', the list was endless, so she never suspected a thing. Besides, she was a busy single mother with two growing kids to look after, so she never really had the time or patience. Anyways, one sunday at church, I couldn't take it anymore, I told her I needed money for sanitary towel, but instead I got drugs. A lot of 'em, and downed 'em all. Soon after, we were having workers' prayer(I'm in the choir btw), and my pastor is this clap the devil out type. By this time, I was already feeling weak and couldn't clap. so after the prayer, while the rest left to start praise n worship, I was asked to stay behind. I was asked why I wasn't clapping but before I could say a word, my mum said I was on, so I'm probably feeling weak. As I was leaving the pastor's office, he dragged me playfully, and I fainted. That was the beginning of my journey. I'm not quite sure if anybody will read this, so to save trouble, I'll continue the write up if I get favorable responses.

No one, in a world of social and biological imperfection, is particularly free of one disturbing mental issue or the other. Many victims of depression have been inspired by that same anomally to become great doctors, singers, scientists and stage performers etc, instead of mourning their predicament to fatal levels. Most celebrities suffer high level of boredom or dissatisfaction and so on and constantly fancy the idea of the order of the universe being against them and worst predicaments. DRUG RUNNING AND USE AGGRAVATE THE SITUATION BY ARITHEMETIC PROGRESSION. IF U ARE NOT DOING DRUGS, GOOD! IT WILL DECLINE WITH TIME AND MORE MONEY. WORK HARD, PRAY UNENDINGLY AND THANK GOD FOR IT AND USE IT AS A TRIGGER TO FURTHER YUR MUNDANE EXPLOIT THRO SOLO ULTR-HIGH CONCENTRATION. GOODLUCK.

Op hope u av not fainted again?! We no hear from u again...how far na

DeKasablanca:
This is not a made up story.
Two years ago, at the age of fifteen, I decided I'd had enough of life. I decided to kill myself, so I took an overdose of drugs. Fortunately, or unfortunately as I saw it at the time, they were the harmless type. I just got a bit sick. My mum thought it was spiritual so she sent me away to live with her sister who was a pastor for about a month. What she didn't know then, was that I was suffering from a mental illness. Anyway, I went, blah blah, I later returned home. After about a month, I started feeling low again. I felt like the world was against me, like no one cared. I would just sit down in the dark, curl up and cry. If my mum asked, I'd just give her an excuse, and I was good at that, 'I just watched a movie that was really sad', 'I just woke up', 'I fell and hurt myself', the list was endless, so she never suspected a thing. Besides, she was a busy single mother with two growing kids to look after, so she never really had the time or patience. Anyways, one sunday at church, I couldn't take it anymore, I told her I needed money for sanitary towel, but instead I got drugs. A lot of 'em, and downed 'em all. Soon after, we were having workers' prayer(I'm in the choir btw), and my pastor is this clap the devil out type. By this time, I was already feeling weak and couldn't clap. so after the prayer, while the rest left to start praise n worship, I was asked to stay behind. I was asked why I wasn't clapping but before I could say a word, my mum said I was on, so I'm probably feeling weak. As I was leaving the pastor's office, he dragged me playfully, and I fainted. That was the beginning of my journey. I'm not quite sure if anybody will read this, so to save trouble, I'll continue the write up if I get favorable responses.

I want to believe you want to pass a message, a lesson across. If that be it, please continue. It may help one or two people here

I hope you overcame it eventually.