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Kati

Copyright, Kati

I am writing this for one reason and one reason only, and that is to hopefully help someone, even if it is only one person. I would like anyone and everyone who reads this to know that I am only 14 years old, but I feel much older because of some of the things I have gone through in my life.

I haven't had a boyfriend, ever. And I am not sure that I am emotionally ready to have one, because they say that you have to love or at least like yourself before you can love anyone else.

I am not sure when my depression began, but I am pretty sure of how it began. It began because I have been blessed or rather burdened with a very sufficient matabilism, in other words I can eat very little and still gain weight, also weight problems run on both my mother's and father's sides. So I have been hit with a double wammy. As you have probably guessed I am overweight, and therefore ever since I can remember have been teased and mocked by my peers. This does take a toll on a person.

It really began to hurt me in the 7th grade, I was in middle school and felt that people would be less childish and realize that teasing people hurts, they didn't. In fact, people teased me more than ever, and the wounds of it were deeper than ever.

I became very depressed and eventually extremely suicidal. I wrote my best friend, at the time, a note telling her when and how I was going to kill myself, she went to the counselor with it, the school in turn called my parents and arranged for me to get a consolation at a local psychiatric hospital. I was scared to death, I didn't want to stay there, at all, I didn't even think I needed therapy. But I got it anyways. I was also placed on antidepressaints.

So a year later I am still in therapy and it is doing nothing, I am also in a confidential group at school, but none of it is helping. I became more suicidal and also began to self-mutilate.

By last summer I was in a desperate state, of course it didn't help that the antidepressant I was on was having adverse effects which threw me into a state of extreme panic and depression, it didn't help that I was also starting a new school, 30 minutes away from everything I had once known.

One night I was laying in bed wanting to jump out the window, or go downstairs and OD on tylonel, when I asked God to help me go to my father, and ask him for help. God came through for me and my father and I stayed up all night talking. The next day I went to a local psychiatric hospital as a patient. That hospital turned out to not help me at all so my parents transferred me to another one. I stayed there for about 5 or 6 days and was in a partial program for another week, then I went back to school.

I am not going to say that being in the hospital cured all of my problems, because it really didn't, infact, my therapist didn't help me at all really. But it did get me on the road to recovery.

Now I am in school, and have self-mutilated a few times since my visit to the hospital, and have had sucidal thoughts and been depressed, but I have also realized that I have a future.

I have realized that I want to live to see my future, and even though life isn't perfect, I am glad that I didn't take my own life that night, because I would have missed a lot, and hurt so many people that I love.