Addicted (Book One: Freshman) Chapter 1

We always have choices in our lives. We don't always think so, and we don't always want to think so, but we do. So why am i here? Why am I writing all this down? Honestly, I don't know, but i do feel that this is the only way I can make sense of everything.

And move on.

    I never thought I would end up here. My name is Kyle Richardson, a student at Worcester Polytechnic Institute in Worcester, Massachusetts. I'm your everyday 21 year old; I like drinking, just having a good time. I can survive school, life's pretty good. It wasn't always that way. Although it's a lot better now than it was, ever since 8th grade, I have struggled with major depression. I made choices to cope with the depression in high school, because the medication wasn't helping. I regret those choices. I'm here to tell you my story. My struggle

                                         

    The alarm clock roared in my ears for the first time in two months. I reluctantly shot up and turned it off. The date was August 28th, first day of school. Not only that, but the first day of HIGH school. Which to me, just meant the first day of more homework, more projects, and higher expectations.
    Grade school had always come somewhat easy. The work was manageable, and there weren't many kids in my school. I had my circle of friends, mostly the kids who always got good grades, and cared a lot about school, maybe too much. My high school was much, much bigger. Over 3000 students, with more kids in my freshman class than in my entire grade school.
    I wasn't suprised at the end of first quarter when i made Highest Honors. I always did first quarter. The beginning of school went well every year, since I was refreshed and renewed from summer vacation. I would go home on the bus everyday, with all my enemies at my old school holding their title. They would throw trash at me, try their hardest to make fun of me, but I never showed once that I cared at all. I wasn't going to go back to my old ways. I didn't have enough energy to care anyways; the stress of the school day alone was too much to bear. The work began piling on, I began falling behind. With each passing day, the days became more and more stressful, and it became harder and harder to catch up with everything.
    Not long after second quarter started, I began to try to figure out where I fit in with the whole thing. Since I played a few sports, and played them well, I tried being friends with the popular jocks. Most of them rejected me, obeying the kids that hated me so dearly at my old school. I never figured out why the kids at my old school hated me so much, after all I "did" for them.
    In 8th grade, I went 5-0 pitching for my school baseball team, with two one hitters and a two hitter. Never once did I get so much as a "nice job, Kyle." I just couldn't understand. Slowly, I began to settle back into my old group of friends, making friends with a few of theirs along the way.
    I woke up the next morning feeling incredibly exhausted. I knew what was happening, my mind was shutting me down. I was getting so tired of this annual cycle. My grades were slipping, things were getting very tense at home, everyone was always telling me how tired I seemed. Every friggen year this happened.
    Christmas break came very quick, and went just as fast. After break, midterms and semester report cards following it. I didn't do too bad on my midterms, and my report card, was parentally acceptable. I just didn't care anymore. One more semester to survive, is all I was thinking. At least PE class was done with; I hated that class so passionately. Another year of learning the same shit I learned every year in health class; I was sick of it. Now, I had health, with Barb Higgins as the teacher, who had gotten rave reviews. Everyone I talked to loved her class.
    After the first period of the first day of second semester, I slowly walked down the hall to Health 1. I saw my friend Justin was in it, at least I had someone I knew well there. I sat behind him. He, in turn was talking to a kid sitting in front of him, apparently a really good friend of his, named Nick Hayes. He was a sophomore, lightly seasoned in the ways of high school. We started talking a little and instantly became friends. The class was extremely interesting. It was so weird having a teacher talk so openly about every subject she taught, showing little or no embarrasment at all. She made the class, and learning, very fun. Nick was slowly becoming one of my better friends. He was completely different from my usual friends; he was into drugs. He smoked pot when he could get the money for it, and always bragged about how much fun it was. I was so deep in my depression, that I wanted to be like him. He was so uncaring, so relaxed, so free.