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When we grow up, we go through changes and there are hard times that we deal with. Most kids can put up with hard times and deal with them in healthy ways. I was not one of these kids. The day was May 16, 1999 it was a Wednesday and it would be a day I’d remember for the rest of my life. I have been diagnosed with severe depression since I was a freshman and it hasn’t improved since then, in fact, if anything, it’s gotten worse. This Wednesday was probably the lowest day of all, so far. The day started out bad to begin with, because I’d completely forgotten about a big paper due in history class and I knew that the teacher would take off a lot of points if it were late. So I was already in a bad mood after first period, but this wasn’t the end of my misery. The next few periods would bring forgotten homework due, my friends not talking to me, and my girlfriend, Heather, ignoring me and walking away. I was so sick of everything already that I couldn’t even deal with rest of the day, so I called my mom and left school. I went home and slept for the next few hours. People with depression tend to want to sleep a lot; maybe that’s why I sleep in class. Then I woke up about 10 minutes before 3 o’clock and I