First of all before I start,

Wattpad is a sanctuary for me, and it feels almost every day coming on here seems to bring out that act for real in me. I've made so many friends on here, and it touches me somewhere that for most people it's really hard to touch me there.

For those with a dirty mind, I'm talking about my heart.

Wattpad has made me feel hope for this world, and all the people in it, and to be honest, I want to meet every single person on here, because you all are perfect, awesome people.

Now, back to the reason I'm writing this, I guess. This will be the last entry here, as for the info I am about to disclose.

My brain said it was finally time this morning, and, well-

I agree.

First, before we start the bitter tale of the man I once was, let's take a trip back to a year ago. The month was December, and the date was [REDACTED].

Following a past breakup, which happened on October 6th, I was slowly, ever so slowly inching into a hole, which if I wasn't careful, would become my grave.

WARNING. THE STORY I AM ABOUT TO TELL GETS PRETTY DARK, PRETTY FAST. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

The man I once was is nothing to be proud of. I was really messed up in the head. I'd seen things, lived them. Things you wouldn't imagine me today being around.

I hated my life, hated who I was and that showed. Every single day, I got up wanting to lay down, telling myself I was going to be alright, that everything was fine.

Truth was, I would never be.

My depression had manifested over many months of not being able to call anyone a friend or trust anyone. This was my life, and I was slowly growing distant from the people who cared about me.

For most of that month, my depression had hit a spike. You could see it in my eyes, that hollow, dead look that had consumed my once lively personality. I soon got paged as "that kid" and "neck rope kid".

Neck rope.

Sound familiar?

Necro.

The name I made for myself in that dark month was uttered late that night.

Necrox.

Those who read and say my name, I bet you've never made that connection. I just bet you haven't. That X was added to make it sound different, unique. I go over the X in NOIR lots.

It was that next day my new name became reality, and the former person, known as Frost, was dead. Necrox was one of a kind, a dark, hollow person with nothing worth in life.

Near the middle of December was when I adopted that name. That was when I was fully gone to those that were close to me. I pushed them away, and to this day I still regret it. I had become someone who couldn't care for anyone or anything. I had become a monster.

Now I could go on for pages about my depression, but I just want to go for one thing. The main thing you should take from this was that I was psychologically unstable, emotionally unstable, and I had multiple things that had all added up into one big thing.

This was how the depression had started. After I had adopted that name, my grades had dropped. I had stopped fighting.

I had been trapped, and I was never going to heal, in my minds eye.

If you haven't gotten the memo, I was talking about the song Monsters. During this time in my hole, all I was listening to was dark stuff. Really, really dark stuff.

Stuff about "slitting someone's throat" and "dangling by a thread".

December went by, and holiday break came.

I was still in a deep hole, and nothing had changed. I hated myself still, and I was way way far off from changing.

I was closed off, and the only thing that was providing a message to me was the pair of earbuds I wore every day. I never took them out. At this time, I wore dark clothes.

Black and dark blue.

Lots of it.

My hair had gotten long, almost too long. You couldn't see my face almost now, and my one eye was fully gone.

I had become the stereotypical "quiet kid".

My parents constantly berated me about grades, which now I had almost 3 C's, and it was clear I was struggling.

December rolled past and nothing changed, until one fateful day.

I was in the car with my father, and he was taking me home. My headphones were in, as always.

He wasn't talking. By now he knew how deep my hole was.

Suddenly, I heard something. My dad has turned up the radio, and it was playing one specific song.

I still remember the words.

"I know you're clinging to the light of day, to tell you everything's A-okay"

"And medication don't do much, yeah, it just numbs the brain."

I had pulled out my headphones and pushed my hair aside, for the first time in ages.

"If you're ever in doubt, don't throw yourself short, you might be bulletproof. Hard to move mountains when you're paralyzed, but you gotta try!"

I had started crying by now, emotion built up over an eternity. All coming in one blow.

"So I'm callin' out Get up Get up! Get a move on! Get up get up! What's takin so long?"

My dad had parked his truck. He looked over at me, as I heard the last words.

"I don't know why I don't talk about it.

I guess it's sometimes the problem.

Sometimes you're wrong.

Sometimes you're right.

Just gotta keep moving forward."

Me and him had talked after that, and it was almost a miracle. My depression had changed into hope for the world. I started writing some, and reading more. A new hobby for a new man.

This was the story I couldn't tell you until now. Months later I started writing on wattpad, and that gets us to where we are today.

I've changed a lot since last year. I've found people I can trust and love, and people I would lay my life down for. To this day, on Friday's I wear black to remind myself and the world who I was. For those that ask, here is your answer.

Here is the truth.

That being said,

I'm gonna probably go lurk for the day. Enjoy.

Till next time
-Necrox