Recovery. (Destiel One Shot.)

Recovery.

Having depression sucks.

It feels like you're drowning while everyone around you is breathing.

People always say they're depressed, but they don't really know what its like.

Being depressed is just feeling really sad all the time, and half the time, you really have no idea why.

You can be happy with friends and everything, but its still there. It never really goes away.

I used to be on medication, until my mom and I thought I was better, then she stopped getting prescriptions to buy them.

I was good for a while. I hadn't felt sad for no reason.

But of course, it came back. And it came back when we can hardly afford to pay the house payments.

So, here I am.

Depressed with no way of getting a cure.

---

I have a best friend and crush.

His name is Dean Winchester.

He has short, light brown, practically a dirty blonde, hair, these really pretty emerald green eyes, freckles that decorate his face, and perfect teeth.

I've known him since middle school and we have been really close since. He has a little brother, about four years younger than him, named Sam. Dean likes to call him Sammy.

I am normally over at his house if I'm trying not to break down. Those happen pretty frequently, honestly. I don't like them. They happen at the worst possible times and I won't be able to do anything about it because of the timing.

I've self harmed before. Multiple different ways, leaving multiple different types of scars.

I've cut myself, which is the main one.

I've burned myself.

I've hit myself, leaving bruises on my legs.

The burn marks are all over. I used a lighter until mom took it away when she found out. That was the one I liked doing the best, but I can't anymore because she'll know.

So, I've resorted to cutting after that. There aren't so many scars that I don't have any room to cut rather than over the others, but there's quite a bit.

I've been trying to stop lately because Dean had found out about it because he walked into my room on me holding the razor to my skin. That was a bad time for everyone because I dropped to the floor, sobbing pretty much, and he just chucked the razor out the window, hugging me tightly.

He didn't know I'm depressed. He was upset I didn't tell him, but he also understand why I didn't considering when he walked in, we'd only been friends for a few months.

He tries to help me stop. He tends to distract me a lot. He makes me genuinely smile, actually. Maybe that's because I have a crush on him.

Yeah, I'm bi, and have a crush on my best friend. So what?

"Its wrong and gross!"

Yeah yeah. I've heard it all before. Its really not gross, though. I mean, liking a guy is the same thing as liking a girl. Sure, their bodies are different, but it still takes the same things to look for to see if you like a person or not.

---

Right now, I was sitting in the corner of my room, hands tugging at my hair, as the tears ran freely down my cheeks. I didn't know why I was crying, though. Its just another breakdown.