A lot of teens suffer from depression and I and one of them.  When I was 11 years old my parents decided they wanted a devorice.  I was completely devastated.  I always thought that I would live a happy life with a full and complete family.  The fairy tales that my mother read to me as a child always had a happy ending, but still sad stuff in the middle.  To sum it up the girl always go the handsome prince.  I thought that every family was like that, but as I got older I found out that my books lied to me. These princess had these perfect little lives and there were usually no really messy bits, but I soon found out that life is the messy bits. Anyway back to the story my father had been married twice before my mother, but no matter what I always loved him. My parents never really got along, but I never thought they would leave each other. While they were in the process of divorce I found out how wicked people could be. I found out that one of my fathers ex-wives was the one who segested the divorce in the first place! She was going to ruin three lives just so she could get some more money from my father. My mother got custody, but I saw my father every Sunday. One day my mother and I got into and argument and she told me I had to go live with my father because she couldn't stand to be around me anymore. I fought against it, but finnaly gave up. When my mother dropped my off my father was waiting and the door with open arms ready to comfort me. After I found out that my father couldn't have coustdy I realized that he didn't want me. He called my mother and an hour later she was there to pick me up. Over the summer my mother and I went on a vacation out West ( we have a travel trailer) we where on the road to Tennessee when my mother got a phone call. She smiled and said hello and the other person talked for a while and I saw the color drain from her face and her smile fade. She said goodbye and hung up the phone. I asked her who had called and she said it was my grandmother. From the expression on her face I knew something was wrong so I asked her what my grandmother had said. She told my it was best to wait until we were at a rest stop. I pleaded for her to tell me. I asked her if my grandparents had won the lato, or if they had gotten a dog or something of the sorts. She simply replied no. I pleaded some more and just kidding asked if my father had died ( he was 73). As she looked at me I knew the answer before I even saw her lips form the word yes. I couldn't believe it how could my father be dead. We had our differences, but I still loved him. From that point on my life was never the same. I still cry on a daily basics. I feel like I am worthless and that if I died no one would notice. I tried to commit sucide once and thought of trying again at least 5 more times. I am tired all the time and I am always sad. Although I have gotten very good at masking my emotion. To my friends I may be extremely happy, but I know that I am dying on the inside. I figured out on my own that I have serious Depression. Today I tried to run away from home. After my mom found me three miles from our house she gave me a serious talking to. I know she was just upset and means well, but she is just helping me dig my grave. When she asked me why I ran away I simply told her that I had gotten into a fight with my grandmother (which was true). But I knew the real reason I ran away. Today is January 20, 2012, on January 20, 1937 my father was born. The fact that my father would never be there to comfort me with open arms when my mom didn't want me has been sinking in for a while and today another 100 pounds was added to that weight and sunk me even deeper. I still have all of my family and friends, but I will always feel alone.