I’m Still Here

Dear Diary,

For years, I have lived with mental illness.  When I was 16, I was diagnosed with moderate depression – but really, what 16-year-old COULDN’T be diagnosed with that?  The pressure to be beautiful and perfect is far heavier than any weight I’ve tipped the scale at… and while I have become more comfortable in my own skin, I still battle those feelings of worthlessness EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.

There was a time when the only relief I felt was watching a line of bright red blood appear on my arm, following the deep drag of a razor I had taken apart. It’s been years since I’ve hidden myself away to cut… but the thought remains constant.

I have never told my Professor’s.  I have pressed forward, pretending everything was all right – that the things I had experienced to bring me to this place were not going to break me down, leaving me in a million little pieces on the dorm floor.  You see, I have to remain strong and confident – because I realized I needed me and I needed to let go, and get the help I so desperately wanted but didn’t know how to ask for.   So I did just that, and it changed my life…