Statistics

I've been taking a psychology class at the college, and I've been learning more than I expected. It's amazing to me how much everyone's childhood has an affect on their life later on. Statistically, I should be one of the most depressed, angry people possible, but I'm the exact opposite. Okay, so maybe I'm not extremely happy, but I am a super calm person for the most part. I've been reading quite a bit about kids and the role their parents play in their future happiness, and how much more introverted kids are affected by their home environment. Studies have shown that kids who live with a single mom that has a low socioeconomic status are more prone to anger problems and depression. To further that study kids who have divorced parents have the same issue, and kids who are introverted are more likely to take a turn for the worse if their home life is stressful or hostile. I am an introvert with divorced parents, and when I lived with my mom she had a low socioeconomic status. So then why am I not a complete sociopath? Or why am I not breaking down in tears constantly? I will admit I have had my spurts of depression, but so has everyone else. Why is it that some people who statistically should be a complete wreck are not while other kids, who statistically should be perfectly fine are not? Why is it that my friends are worse off than me even though statistically they have a better family life than me? I'm not trying to say that my friends are terrible people but one of my friends does have major depression issues and her home life is fine. She has two parents who love her very much, and her parents are still married. So why is she the one who finds it difficult to not cut herself and I don't? According to statistics I probably should have thought about suicide a few times by now, and I haven't. Although I have been depressed and acted on my depression. When I was fifteen I ran away from home hoping that my mom would appreciate me more or hoping she would ease up on me, but that didn't happen. Instead when I returned home she practically told me there was something wrong with me, and I needed to go to therapy because of it. She didn't even cry when I came home, and my dad was bawling. Even my brother Jake cried, and my other brother was on his way home from college to come look for me. My mom didn't cry and made fun of my tactics for running way. She said what kid would do this when they ran away. There was an entire list of things I'd done wrong with my attempt, it was almost as if she was egging me on to try again so I could do it right. She also told me that I was taking the easy way out of my problems but that wasn't the case. I just felt like I had nothing else I could do to solve my problems so I ran away thinking it would help.