A Story To Add To Millions

Two

"The night is the hardest time to be alive and 4 AM knows all my secrets."

-Unknown

I don't really know how to introduce myself in a book. I'm not really sure how to word anything. I'm not sure about a lot of things to be honest. Well. I'm a sophomore in high school. I turn 16 on December 3rd. My full name is Elizabeth Grace. I have a part time job that drains me mentally and emotionally. These are boring details now that I think about it. But I guess if you're gonna read about me, you kind of need to know some background stuff, y'know? I guess that makes sense. So, how about I stop blabbering and get to the damn story?

I think the depression and anger started when I was nine years old. I was bullied so bad in the 3rd grade I would get suspended on purpose just so I didn't have to go to school. I wouldn't ride the bus and even the school's principal told my mother I needed psychological help. All because kids were bullying me. I was pulled from that school at the end of the school year after my mother had just about jumped across the desk at the principal. I was moved from a Prep Academy to a public school. Starting in 4th grade, I made a few friends and I was happy for the first time in a while. Then, things got bad again. I was 10 years old and seeing a psychiatrist three times a week. Again, because according to the school, I was "In severe need of psychological help." I was put on Xanax at 11 years old. I was such a zombie. I couldn't focus and was always tired. I went mute for months. Imagine an 11 year old, on Xanax and ADD meds, depressed and mute, and blamed for other kids' effect on me. Then came middle school. I was 13 and in the 7th grade, I had attempted suicide for the first time. I was underweight from not eating and my legs and arms were covered in cuts.

I stopped talking to my therapist. She tried to get me to go to an inpatient hospital. I didn't want that. It made me feel even crazier than I was. Or am, rather. My mother kept asking how I felt everyday. I eventually started lying and faking a happy attitude just so she wouldn't worry.

Eventually, I stopped talking all together. Started failing school. I had no motivation to even get out of bed. Then, December of 2017, right after my 14th birthday, I attempted suicide for the second time. I took half a bottle of sleeping pills and passed out in front of my mother. I woke up two day slater in the hospital.

She couldn't even look at me.

Oh my god. Like dear fucking Jesus. Reliving and writing this just hurts man. I hope this is coming along like I want it to. Anyways, Have a good days lovelies!

Liz X