#Keeping it real.

This is my entry for the #Keep it real competition, every thing you read is 100% real.

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1. My story.

#Keeping it real. So many things that could mean, but to me, it means staying strong to who you are, no matter what the circumstances.

Depression. Such a sad word right?   

Teenage girls all over the world, today, have been thrown into walls, taunted, called nasty names, punched, kicked, abused, all in their own school. Teenage depression effects one in every 20 teenagers, and one in every 5 young women, pretty staggering facts when you realise that there is 1.2 billion teenagers alive today.   

 

I'm a normal teenage girl, 15, lots of friends, interested in boys, gossip.  

 

Happy.

 

However, I wasn't always like this. There was a time in my life when I was hated myself so much. I didn't even want to live. When I was in year 7, I suffered from a cancer scare. I went for a check up and the doctor said I needed to have a skin biopsy. Off I went to the hospital. The next day, I broke down in tears in front of my friends, crying. I told them what was happening to me. Bless their tiny little hearts, they were ever so supportive. 

The test results came back, negative, sigh of relief! The drama went away for a while. 

Year 8 came, and went.   

 

Then came year 9.  

 

A rumour was spread all over my school, that I had lied, that's right, lied about cancer. Guess who started it? No one other than my "best friend". 

Everyday I was subjected to name taunting, pushing, shoving. I had my tooth chipped from being pushed down some stairs, I had coke poured over my head routinely. I was living in hell. I lost all of my friends, but found solace in an outsider, we clung to each other, we were each others rock.  

 

I was alone.   

 

Wednesday night, I spent all night in my room, like normal, talking to my online friends. But that was the night I would die. I couldn't take it any more.  

 

I found a razor and 5 packets of paracetamol.   

 

The next morning, I woke up in a hospital bed, and an angel was standing over me.

Okay so it wasn't an angel, but the nurse looked like one. 

I had taken 15 paracetamol pills and cut myself in 31 different places. It resulted in me having my stomach pumped.  

 

But I was alive.  

 

I was referred to my district counselling service and the school excluded the bullies. Things gradually got better and I found new friends. That experience changed me into who I am today. A girl who laughs at almost everything, doesn't hide, social butterfly.  

 

Me.   

 

I am now in year 11 and my final year of GCSE's.  

If my story sounds anything like your life, let me just say, you are not alone.

Depression is a hard thing to beat, but with a little determination and a lot of help, you can do it. 

Stay true to yourself, and don't let anyone change you, no matter what.

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