I have struggled with depression and anxiety since I was 8 years old, when I was first abused my school principal and bullied by many of my peers. Not much has changed since then; life has not gotten any easier. In fact, the bullying I experienced as a kid only got worse when I started college.

I have attempted suicide a dozen times, and have been hospitalized twice. I have turned to sex, drugs, and alcohol to numb my pain; all of which only ended up making me feel worse. I have taken just about every antidepressant out there, and none of them seem to have helped me. Each made me feel like someone I’m not.

After my last suicide attempt, a few months ago, many of the people that I thought were my friends stopped being there for me. I dropped out of college and was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. Now, I spend most of my days talking to my therapist or in support groups. I have alienated myself from many of my other friends, and removed myself from all social media platforms. I still think a lot about committing suicide.

When people see me, they think that I am fine. But nobody really knows the truth. Every day seems harder and harder, and I constantly think about committing suicide. I planned on overdosing the other day, but I stopped myself after I heard about a mother in my building whose baby daughter has about a year and a half left to live. I know that I am being selfish for wanting to end my life, but I feel that I have nobody here for me and nothing to live for.

I have been looking to overcome my war with depression, but it feels as if I have been defeated. I am only asking for my life to get better and to find some happiness on this earth. Mental illness is the hardest thing to overcome, especially when we live in a world where people look down on those who are sick.