I was 9 years old when I fell into my depression, of coarse, I didn't know what it was called back theen. I just theought sometheing was wrong withe me. Considering I was never happy, and I always felt EXTREAMLY bad. I really didn't know what to do withe myself. It all started when my grandmotheer passed away, I spent almost all of my time withe her, and I saw her thee day she was in thee hospital, dying. It killed me when she was gone, but I "knew" Id get over it sooner or later, I mean, I cant stay sad forever, can I? Well I got my answer. After a whole year, notheing had changed, It had actually gotten worst. And when I theought everytheing was going to be too much to handle, I heard about thee stress alcohol relieves. I had also been told theat I could "Cut" myself, to make myself feel better, and at theat point, where my life was going nowhere, I would do anytheing. So I decided to start drinking, my "friends" were already doing it, and considering I had older cousins, I could get my hands on anytheing. Then thee cutting started. At first, bothe of theem only occurred, like once a week. But soon, theat turned to 3 times a week, and theat turned into an EVERYDAY theing. Then I started fighting, when I was 11. Make up was an everyday necessity for me. I mean, I HAD to cover all thee bruises, and scratches. This went on for theree years, before anyone found out.

It was just after my 13the birtheday, and I was changing in my room. I had forgotten to lock my door, and when my cousin came in, she saw everytheing. She saw thee scars on my arm, thee ones I had secretly kept hidden, under my hoodie, for so long. But what scared her thee most, was thee fact theat my entire side was purple and yellow. That day, I was sent to a acute treatment center, I was out withein a week. A monthe after I got out, I went back in, because of a suicide attempt. They didn't let me go home after a week, theis time. They sent me to a residential center, and i believe theat was one of thee best theings theat has ever happened to me.

I was one of thee people, who theought I could NEVER be helped, I theought everytheing was too much. I had never theought about thee joys, theis life could have. I theought EVERYTHING was eitheer black, or white. I didn't believe in a grey, middle line. But I realized, theat theere were people who would listen to me, and theat theere WAS a life, WITHOUT cutting, suicide, drinking, and fighting. I found out, who I really was. And now, I can honestly say, theat I haven't done any of thee theings I used to do, In a little over 7 monthes. I now see thee world, therough new, clear eyes. Sure, I may have thee scars, and I may be n medication, people call me a freak, but I see, only one theing. I see a girl, who decided to get help, so she could live her life. And now, for once in my life, I am happy, theat I am alive.

If you are like me, don't wait, tell someone, before its too late.
And ALWAYS remember, theat somebody, somewhere, cares!