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I think I developed depression when I started high school. I missed out on so many days of school because I just couldn't get up out of bed because I was afraid of what would happen next. That's always been me. afraid of the future, of the past. I didn't know anyone when I started high school and I'd never been out of my comfort zones in primary, because I was friends with everyone and everyone was friends with me, but high school was so different. Everyone's ten times taller and ten times smarter, which were always my strong points. I was a mime for most of the first day, until I met my first friends who I will name Carrie and Esther. Carrie just started talking to me randomly and her personality seemed similar to mine and we became really close. Esther was quieter, more reserved, but nice. I thought that we would be friends for a while, but I was wrong. After two weeks, Carrie's real personality came out and she - along with some other people who had recently entered the group - kicked me out, after they took one of my jokes seriously. That was the first time I'd cried publicly in high school. I soon moved to another group, which abandoned me too, then another, which fell apart. I finally came to a group that accepted me and liked me and I didn't care if it was "uncool" to hang out with them, they were the type of people that were hard not to be friends with. But in Year 8 I soon felt the pressure of the social ladder forced on me by one of my longest friends in high school who I will call Ella. She believed they were uncool, and because I didn't want to disagree with her, I moved groups again so that i would become more popular with people, but that wasn't the type of group I belonged in either and my friend slowly began to ignore me. I then became friends with two girls who soon became my best friends - Mary and Louise. We did everything together and they were the relief I needed in the my depressing life, and for a while I was appeased and I accepted that life would never be perfect. Then the end of the year came and I went away for the holidays and I lost contact with Mary and Louise for a while. When I got back to school, Louise wasn't talking to me and I didn't know why. When I talked to her, she just said, we aren't in any of the same classes anymore, but that was the same for her and Mary, but it was like that didn't matter for them! I just stopped trying with Louise from then on. Obviously our friendship meant nothing to her. then there was another problem. Mary and I were doing a project together which I was away for quite a lot. But we did the best we could with the small amount of time we had. She didn't pull her weight and in the end her mother called up my father and started abusing him about my being away on the day of the project and how it was all my fault. That's when I realised that Mary wasn't a true friend either, because she told her mother to call my house and say that, even though it wasn't my fault for anything. That tore me up inside. Eventually I started to befriend another girl called Jane, whose friend also started to ignore her, but for different reasons. She had SI'd before and I tried to counsel out of it, because I knew how she felt and I didn't think it was the right thing to do. She began to rely on me. Tell me all her problems. That's about the time I started to drift away from the group. Throughout the past three years of my life I've usually had another option, this time, my option was Mel's group. They were the rejects, no-one wanted them, but they were all really nice, crazy, but nice. My other group looked down on me when I sat with them, it was like I was diseased, some sort of freak of nature. That's why I've stopped sitting with Mel's group for a while, maybe forever.
I've only SI'd once. I don't remember why, even though it was only a couple of weeks ago. I finally understand why Jane did it. I felt so real, so alive. I'd always compared my life to a dream, like everything that was happening wasn't real, but that told me that it truly was. I compare my scar to a war scar, a symbol of all the despairs in my life. Sometimes I regret it, and sometimes I don't.

Pain is my alternative to death, and sometimes I want to die so badly, but I haven't got the bravery to do it. I'm pretty gutless. x