About two and three years ago I was suffering from severe depression. I would go to school (currently in grade 12 about to graduate) and cry and call my mom and beg her to come pick me up. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. I had a great family life, good friends, I had a good life. But I was struggling. I googled why I felt this way because I didn’t feel like I could talk to my parents and I tried to do all the things the Internet suggested when you feel down. Eventually I told my parents how I wanted to just kill myself and I did not feel like I belonged in the physical world anymore. I was brought to my family doctor and he put me on Prozac. An anxiety medication. I started to feel a bit better but not enough. So once again I resorted to the internet to help me. I tried everything; meditation, walks, family and friends, you name it I did it. Then I came to a page where it mentioned cutting. I started to cut myself... I felt so much better. I don’t understand it still, even before I cut myself I always thought “when a person cuts themselves they’re only giving themselves more pain so how does that help?”. Eventually I went off of Prozac and a couple months later I wanted to go back on so I asked my mom and she didn’t seem to care. My brother got into some trouble with the law and he was upset about it and my mom said “I hate seeing my kids so upset” and I just laughed because I was so obviously upset but my parents didn’t care. I don’t think I was ever actually suicidal but sometimes I thought about how my friends and family’s life would be impacted if I was dead. A lot of my family members are dead so I never thought there was really a point. In 500 years no ones gonna know about us or care about us in the physical world. My best friends boyfriend tried to kiss me when we were both drunk at a party. I told him no and we didn’t kiss. Then he went around telling all of our friends I tried to kiss him and everyone believed him (grade 10/11 at this point). My ex boyfriend sexually abused me. He’d slap me, scratch me when I was being “bad”, forced me to do things to him to him. I did not eat with my friends at lunch FOR FOUR MONTHS in high school because I was so anxious. I would go to the school library and work or eat in a stall. I downloaded kids help

Phone and used it daily. I finally figured out how to put how I felt into words and even have it still, two years later typed out. “When I make plans and go out, it’s not because I want to. It’s because I know that I should want to”. ... my point is, to whoever took the time to read and acknowledge my story... that I’ve struggled with mental illness my whole life. My friends don’t know about it because I don’t like it when people sympathize me, my parents only know because I had to tell them. I still have the scars on my wrist from those days and I will NEVER forget that dark time in my life. But today, for the last couple of months I am so happy. I have the same friends who understand me now, I have an amazing boyfriend, my parents and brother are awesome. Things do get better. I promise. I will never not take mental health seriously. It is serious. It’s a disease. But please let me tell you things get better. And if you ever, ever need someone. I am here for you, I am here for all of you. Thank you for reading this, if you did. 💕