How I time travelled because of depression . . . | by Somewhere Grim | Sep, 2025
So obviously the boy from the story was me, and I started going out with this group of punk rockers and metalheads.
And we drank, and I numbed the pain, until the last day of school . . .
The time was passing too quickly, but I didn’t mind it this time.
I was creating memories, and after those 2 depressing years, I finally felt like I was living . . .
But then the last summer of our high-school lives passed, and the loneliness came back. I still wanted to go out with my friends, still doing mischief, and going to live gigs, and hiding bottles when cops passed by, and smoking, and being the same kid from a small town on the east side and . . .
And I wasn’t anymore.
Friends kept leaving the little town, finding jobs outside the country, or in bigger cities in the west side of the country.
Friendships fell apart, and I felt as lonely as I did when I was 16.
Except I wasn’t 16 anymore, and I was an adult and had to find a job and start moving somewhere. But I wasn’t ready.
I think those 2 years that I didn’t go anywhere, and just sat at home doing nothing all day, every day, kind of made me feel like I was two years behind everybody else.
“Why did they get 4 years of being teenagers, but I only got 2?” was what I thought . . .
And my mom, as much as she tried to help, wasn’t helping at all.
And I was so scared, lost and lonely . . .
But there she was . . .
My girlfriend.
She and her hatred for her broken family and her plan to move as far as possible from them.
So I jumped on the same train and never looked back since.
I have a great memory, my earliest memories are from the age of 3!
But I can’t remember much of what happened between 16–18!
It’s like I time travelled during that time.
The obvious explanation would be that my days always looked the same, and I became so numb to the monotony of my life, that I stopped thinking about anything and the first real memory comes from the moment I was standing in front of that window having that internal monologue with myself, about whether I’m going to be dead this time next year or not.
And I decided I won’t be. And that is the story of how I time travelled because of depression.
