At age 11 I was just a little 6th grader eager to start middle school until reality hit me. I had this overwhelming feeling of sadness but I thought it was normal for a girl going into her teens so I ignored it. I ignored the sadness and anger for so long it only made matters worse.

In the middle of 6th grade I had started hurting myself thinking it would take the sadness away. I never told a soul about what was happening to me. My self harm went on for months before my school counselor see some marks on my wrist. At the end of my 6th grade year I was sent to a hospital for an evaluation and I begged my mom not to let them keep me in there. I was only 11 years old. I was so scared. I never wanted to die but they all seemed to think that, I only wanted the sadness to go away. I later got diagnose with major depressive disorder and social anxiety. At first I didn't know what to think, I didn't even know what those words really meant. It took me a while to understand why I had to take medicine, and what was going on in my head. As time went by I started understanding what it all meant I was overwhelmed with sadness that sometimes turned into anger, I shook and bit my lip and almost cried when I had to talk to people I didn't know or read something aloud in class. Finding out my brain and body was different than others was my favorite but yet worst memory growing up. I'm glad I found out what was wrong me and found other ways to cope with it than the way I was, and Im glad Im getting treatment to help me out throughout everyday, but I hate how it started.

Ever since this moment i’ve tried opening up to people with the best of my ability but even at 16 it's hard sometimes. I still have my days I wanna hurt myself to take away the sadness, and lay in bed all day and not show my face at school but I know I have to do what's best for me in the long run and my future. I just gotta take one day at a time and remember all the positivity in my life instead of the negativity.