Covid was a wild ride. I have been struggling with depression as long as I can remember. It was not until covid hit, that it finally came up to my parents. There were long, rough nights, and times I didn't even think I would make it. I ended up self-harming so bad from all the stress, I was put in the mental hospital. Besides the depression I had to deal with trauma that had happened to me that year, and if that wasn't enough stress, I was also dealing with a drug problem. It was rough. I was self-medicating to try to push down the underlying problems. The mental hospital didn't exactly help either. I was unstable and couldn't see a point of living. In my mind I have nothing to look forward for. The country was having social unrest, the economy was collapsing, nobody seemed to be able to agree on anything and the political war was out of hand. I felt like the media was shoving all the problems down my throat and I just couldn't breathe. That was the one good thing I got from the mental hospital, a fucking break. I couldn't handle it. What do you do when your life already feels like it's going to collapse and now, you're in a middle of a pandemic. The cancel culture was getting out of hand and social media was becoming a huge problem. No one could tell fake news from real news and everyone was scared if they said the wrong thing they would be shamed. The pressure was unbearable. This led up to my suicide attempt that landed me once again in a mental hospital. It was awful feeling being trapped in the same four walls, constantly being watched by the staff. It was a nightmare. I couldn't decide which one was worse, being locked up and forced into therapy 24/7 or being out in the real world full of problems. I was lost and there seemed to be no answers. Again, and again I continued to relapse, unable to pull myself out of the bad habits. Soon there was not an inch of my body not covered in scars, but the physical scars didn't even matter anymore. The emotional scars left behind wouldn't heal like the physical ones would. I went through many therapists trying to find someone who could help me. No matter what I did it seemed like my trauma seemed to always resurface. As a woman it was extremely hard for me to come to terms with what happened. I felt so violated but the stigma around my abuse was a thick cloud no one wanted to break. It seems it was never the guy's fault but always the girls. We must have led them on, worn something wrong or said the wrong thing. Now in lockdown I had plenty of time to sit and think about everything causing my life to spiral out of control. There were no distractions to keep my mind at bay. Everything was shut down. Nothing to look forward to, to keep my spirits up. Prom was canceled, and graduation ceremonies don't seem like an option. As a young person it is very hard to get the attention we may want, and if we do it is a negative light. We cannot tell out stories because they are not valid until we have “lived life” and “truly experienced the world” I am tired of people telling me I'm lucky that I am young. What good is youth when we cannot enjoy it. The same people that tell me I am in my prime age are the same ones who played in the streets and went wherever without worry. I was not allowed in the streets; I was not allowed to adventure and be a kid because when I grew up there were to many criminals on the loose. We could not walk down the street without an adult in fear of being kidnapped. We were deprived of a lot of freedom because of what the world had become. So naturally when I became a teenager life did seem like the prime. Maybe we do have lots of mental health issues and other problems that are not being addressed as much as they should, but at least we got the taste of freedom. Long nights with friends, school dances and activities, being dumb teenagers. Maybe we didn't fully get to experience being a kid but we sure as hell weren't going to let our teenage years go to waste even if it may not be as glamorous as it seemed. Now even out teenage years are being ripped away from us. No more high school, hanging out, long nights, school dances, and being dumb teenagers. We were told to stay inside and be safe, to wear our masks and hide from society. I am tired of living in a world that doesn't seem to want me here. How much longer can I stand being beaten to the ground before I won't get up again. Every day I question the benefit continuing life. How can I “just get over it”? I've been through so much and all I get in return is a little gold sticker and the promise it will get better soon. Covid has been a blessing and a curse. It lifted me up and bit me in the ass. Without it I may have never gotten the help I needed with my depression; I may have never told anyone the horrible things done to me that creep into my nightmares. But with it comes the impending doom that everything was for nothing. My life is a mess and that's just how it will always be.