I used to listen to this song when I was depressed and it helped me a lot. So I decided to share it with you in hopes that you will listen and possibly feel better.

If anyone has any sex/medical related issues, I am more than happy to answer any questions anybody has. :)

To the 14 year old who haven`t have a boyfriend. There`s so many reason as to why you don`t have a boyfriend and all of them must be good. Sometimes boys don`t tell you what they think of you because they might find you intimidating. Maybe your smile is really cute, you have deep eyes, you`re very smart or funny, or just the way you potray yourself to the people. maybe you`re a bit reserve or shy, but its better that way. trust me. would you rather be the girl who has never had a kiss, but everybody knows she is just taking care of herself or the girl who had 8 boyfriends by the time she is 16 just because she likes breaking hearts or causing drama? One day, a guy will be brave enough to tell you that you`re perfect even with your flaws and he will take care of you and respect you. Please don`t be the girl who is going to date the 1st guy that ask her on a date. know that you are wanted, why else would you be this beautiful creature on this world? You`re here to make a difference not to reach some guideline set up by society. You are wanted, beautiful, strong, and intelliegent; don`t let anybody else make you think otherwise.
Pluse its much funner when you`re friends with a guy, but i mean like actually friends, not a flirty slut. I`m sorry if i offended anybody.
This is for everybody who thinks they are less then anybody else.
STAY GOLD!

so right now I suffer from depression, paranoia and anxiety, but things were a lot about 11 months ago…

I had a best friend. her name was Tiitu. we had known each other for only three years, but those three years were the best of my life. every day I found myself loving tiitu more and more, but as a friend. she was the reason I wanted to smile and she was the only one who didn’t bully me at school (including the teachers) but I didn’t care about the others, it was just us two.

april 2012 she got diagnosed with smallpox. it’s like chicken pox but… worse. way worse. I wasn’t allowed to see her, and I cried myself to sleep everyday because now I didn’t have a reason to smile, I didn’t have anyone to light up my day. my parents were fighting, my sister was anorexic and an alcoholic, there was nobody I could turn to. april 22nd, Tiitu passed away, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

school was a month away from ending, and because the principal had some form of sympathy towards me she gave me two days off school. when the third day came, and I had to go to school, I couldn’t get out of bed. I mean, what was the point? everyone would bully me, because no matter how bad things were they wouldn’t care. they still would continue. so I quit school for the last month, I didn’t go. instead, I was brought to a psychiatric clinic, since I didn’t speak, eat or sleep at all. I lost 10 kg of weight in a month, I’m not sure how much that is in pounds, but try to figure it out. anyway, I lived at the clinic for two months until I got discharged. they told me I had severe depression, but I didn’t speak until we moved away from our old home. from the city I had met best friend and lost her. 

I said my first word on the first day of july, to my 7th therapist then, and I said “I want to die”, which was true; I really, really wanted to just die. I had nothing to live for. nothing was okay, and they never were going to be. at least so I thought… and still do.

the only thing I did for the rest of the summer holiday was listen to music, go cycling and watch tv. I made my parents think I ate, when in reality I threw everything up in my room upstairs. I still can’t look at that toilet bowl.

I started talking better again on the first day of school here where I live now - I talked to a new girl at the school as well called Kimberley. turns out she wasn’t so nice, so I don’t really talk to her.

now… I go to therapy 9 hours a week. sometimes I skip it, but the people there understand. I don’t cry myself to sleep, but on the 22nd of april I hope I will be cured from this horrible disease, this jail I was forced into by the cause of my best friend’s death. I know I don’t deserve this, but somehow I also do. my life is an organized mess, but that’s the girl I want to be. I’m the girl who’s life is an organized mess, and will always hopefully be. 

Well you see ever since I was little I always knew I was different then other kids. I didn’t have friends except one girl we best friends the day she was born I was at the hospital when she was born of course I don’t remember it I was a baby to.  Well my best friend was named Emily. She didn’t go to the same school as me though but at school I was made fun of constantly for being different I would cry all the time for being picked on I hated it school sometimes memories kinda strike and I hate being the way I am all over again. Well when I was in 2nd grade Emily died. She died having a seat belt strangle her to death it was broken her dad didn’t know it did that to her until the end of the car ride. Then her death gave me suicidal thoughts at the age of 7. When I went in the pool I would try to drown myself but my brother would pull me up and ask what I was doing I just said I wanted to see how long I could holding my breath. I didn’t have a friend until the 3rd grade I was depressed and always upset the summer before third grade I remember telling myself I would make a friend I will try to fit in somewhere. Well that year I became best friends with a girl name Catherine who is actually still my best friend today she was my only friend for awhile until the next year where I had gained a couple more. But I was still being bullied and still having a hard time with myself but honestly Catherine thought I was really happy all the time until 6th grade. I remember her saying she loved how I didn’t care what anyone thought of me in reality I did infront of everyone I just pretended there rude comments didn’t hurt. 5th grade came and I remember having more friends I ever had in my life at that point I had like 7 friends not a lot but to me they were. I remember thinking that was the best year of my life until the end of 5th grade came along my Dad got really sick and we just thought he had a cough but they sent him to the hospital and he ended up dying. That is when my suicidal thoughts got really bad. I remember the whole year in 6th grade I honestly didn’t care about what anyone said about me I already felt like shit nothing anyone could say could hurt me more than I already felt and when someone asked me about my dad I would smile and say yeah he is dead not because I was happy because if I didn’t I would cry. I remember a kid in my class kept asking about my dad and I felt like I was about to cry and then my teacher saw that and the teacher was actually friends with my dad and told the kid to stop and let me go to the bathroom to bawl my eyes out. I was a bitch to everyone that year and I didn’t care that was my payback to everyone who was mean to me over the years pretty much everyone hated me. I said sorry to everyone at the end of the year for what I did and said to them most of them forgave me. Then 7th grade started I became shy and antisocial then ever. Catherine even didn’t really talk to me this year she said I was “too depressing” that year probably why she is ignoring me now anyway that year I became friends with a girl Amanda she seemed nice at first but then she got everyone to make fun and bully me she would make me shake and cry when she stepped in my direction and talked to me she gave me nightmares I started cutting because I was being bullied by her and all her friends. She was popular and pretty so a lot of people listened to her she got this girl Bailey on her said and they would call me ugly fat and worthless everyday and made me cry Got all there friends to pick on me they made my life living hell. During the summer I met this guy we dated for a long time until I found out he was using me for sex he never loved me like I loved him he finnaly made me feel worth something only to take it all away. 8th grade came and my friend Autumn was dating this guy Daniel my brother was friends with him and I was talking to him at my brothers ROTC thing and he told Autumn we made out we never did at all. We get back to school on Monday she is screaming at me calling me a pathetic whore I didn’t know what was going on she pulled up her sleeves and told me this is what I made her do. She said ” I knew you liked him ” Autumn was popular and she got a lot of people to hate me and yet the cycle comes around again I was being bullied my brother stopped being friends with that guy again. This year I don’t know what happened but everything in school is good again. No people bullying me still the suicidal thoughts and cutting but not as bad as everything was. I am adding to this Someone close to me committed suicide that girl Emily I mentioned earlier in this her dad died. He had a little boy Johnathon and then two other children it is so horrible. He was like my second dad and I just miss him.

Hi. I’m a girl at the age of 15, and this is my story.

When I was younger, I lived together with my younger sister, mom and dad. People thought that we were a completely normal family, with normal arguments and normal conversations. But they were wrong. To make this short, I was abused by my mom around maybe the age 5.
around the age at 6-8, I was a really shy girl. I’ve always been a shy girl, this was nothing that personally affected me from the start, but as older as I got, people used that in school.

in 3rd grade I was an outcast. I had my two best friends that always froze me out, I wasn’t good enough to play with them, I wasn’t good enough to walk with them, I wasn’t good enough to basically even talk with them. And everytime I asked someone if they wanted to hang out after school, they said they couldn’t, and the next second I saw them go home with someone else.

After that I switched school, but the new one wasn’t better, this was in 4th grade.
some people started to pick on me, call me shit, hit me and shoot for example footballs at me whenever I walked past them, or whenever they saw me. Even the boys picked on me and hit me.
Everyday I ran home crying, made excuses to go from class to run away home to my dad, which is my bestfriend and always has been. My bestfriend was the worst bestfriend I’ve ever had. She didn’t care about the people that bullied me, she just stood there, watching me get hurt, and just walked away.

After a while I switched school and got to a new one once again, with some people I had known since kindergarten. And this is at probably the age of 11-12.
 
From my other school I got into an easy depression, at around the age of 10. But I came over it, regained strength and got a new friend that I had been hanging out with since I was a little fetus.

But of course, even she let me down, I got bullied, once again. I locked myself into the toilet every once in a while, cried my heart out everyday. One day I even took my most loving piece of jewelry to hold whenever I got hurt, squeeze it and tell myself in the stall that I’m strong and didn’t deserve it. But that didn’t take me very far, I lost even more confidence than before.

The older I got, the more mess I got through. My dad, the only one I had and ever will have, got sick. He’s having a lot of problems with his heart, and sometimes it just stops. He’s really old and I know he won’t make it in the long run, cause he’s always so strong, and I admire him for that.

My mom and I don’t have a relation at all. Everything she does now a days is sleeping around with different guys, drinking and taking drugs, and the guys she sleeps with always calls me disgusting words I’ll always be disgusted by.

And me? Well, I fake a smile everywhere I go. I have nobody to trust, nobody to tell all these things to, I’ve hold this inside me for so long, and whenever I get home, I hear my dad coughing and trying to breath clearly, so I just run into my room, shut the door, lay down on the floor and cries for minutes and minutes. And that happens pretty much everyday. I’m sick of pretending i’m okay, when i’m not.

In 2006, I was in grade 1. I was a rounder, stronger girl. I was six years old and I remember sitting next to my two best friends. Caden and Dakota. I remember how I was built like them, not like a ‘girl’s frame’ I had broad shoulders, big hands, round face, and muscles. I remember looking across the room seeing all these girls who were skinny, and wishing to look like them. That year was the first year I was bullied. Four years later, 2010, I was ten years old and still putting up with the names, looking like the boys and everything like that. I remember starting to feel full after just a small plate of food, and everyone else had two small plates. Two years later, on February 27th, 2012, I was twelve years old and I stopped eating. No one really noticed. I stayed in my room, ‘doing homework’ or ‘sleeping’ but really, I was just breaking.` I would look at all these pictures of models and that was my motivation, to look like them. After a while, my parents got suspicious and would make sure I ate every meal. So for the first week it worked, until I learned about bulimia. So, I decided to eat in front of my family, then excuse myself to the bathroom, and puke up everything I ate. That same year, on July 27th, I took my first blade to my wrist. I cut for the times I was bullied, I cut for the stress, for the yelling matches that went on between my parents, for the times I did something wrong, for everything. It all became too much. On September 29th, I tried to overdose. I didn’t succeed due to my brother who found me. Still being determined to leave this awful world, I attempted suicide on October 12th, which was my 13th birthday. I was close to my birthday wish, I had the knife in my stomach, and I was found by my brother once again, lying on the floor in a puddle of my own blood. To this day, I still am anorexic, and when I eat, I am bulimic. I also cut multiple times a day. I am now thirteen and keep this smile on my face. Only my family and teachers know about attempts of suicide. And everything is building up, and I am close to being pushed over the edge once more.