Things didn’t change much in my new school. I buried myself in school work, especially Math. Throughout middle school, I kept to myself and was all alone. I was the first in my class to earn the coveted black belt in Mr. Mac’s Judo Math 2 (x) 0 = 0, but then again, I had time to spare. There were times when I loved being alone - in my thoughts, I didn’t care about anyone or anything. All I cared about was being alone. Then one day, I asked myself  “why do I want to be alone? what was the point of being alone? You might as well be nothing." And I then began to listen and agree with the voice in my head; that I was nothing. This created a deep dark depression that wanted to kill me. It told me that I didn’t matter to anyone, that there was no point in living if I was nothing, that I should just die.

The years past by and by 8th grade I had grown darker. No words would come out of my mouth. I would always slouch and didn’t respond to anyone who called me. I was a walking corpse. I didn’t have any feelings  - it was as though I was nothing; Lifeless. It took the biggest toll on me when I went to the hospital for suspicions of suicidal behavior. And then, 8th-grade camp happened. 8th-grade camp was a trip where we would be in cabins and hang out with friends. Obviously,  I didn’t have any friends, but I still wanted to go to take a break from school. So I went. 

I wasn't surprised when I saw friend after friend hanging out with each other; while I was left by myself. My father came to the 8th-grade retreat as a volunteer; to check up on me and the other students. I told him I’d been having a bad time hanging out with people. My dad was concerned by the fact that I had no one to talk to so he told me I can hang around him until he had to leave. So I did, we went to the skatepark, played tennis, and played air hockey inside when it got cold. That was one of the most memorable times I had at 8th-grade retreat, well that and…

It was a stormy night, it was raining cats and dogs. There was a dance party going on in the main commons, but I didn’t have anyone to go with so I stayed outside in the soaking terrain under the awning so I didn’t get soaked. I waited, as I usually do; that's all I could do. Then I saw this big figure in the rain soaked head to toe. He was grunting and sniffling , so I went up to ask is everything alright. Little did I know that I was meeting another depressed soul who, like me, was tortured by his depression every day. His name was Torva and for the first time in many years, I did not feel alone.