People think happiness is just found behind a smile, but behind a smile is alot more than happiness. For the past 15 and a half years I have hidden behind my smile. I have hidden my tears, my thoughts, and my fear of death. The habit of hidding my feelings began at a young age. As a young kid, I never really thought there was a need to express an opinion. Suicide was just a joke to me and thought nothing of it. When I was just five years old my mother filed for a divorce. By the time I began asking my mother “why,”her answer just remained the same, and that was “it just wasn’t working out,” or “we just fought too much.” I knew there was more to that.At the age of eight I began to feel rejected and not part of my family. I began to see my older and younger sister being favored by my father and grandfather. I just brushed it off and played it off like it would be no big deal, or it didnt mean anything to me. As time went on the feeling of rejection grew bigger and bigger. I began to gain large amounts of weight because I thought that food was my only comfort zone. At school my classmates, even if they were my friends would constantly make fun of me and would make mean remarks about my wieght. I soon got the name “Jilly Whilly.” I never really thought that my weight was a big deal, until the harassment grew. Between my family life and school life I began to back away from everything. For a good while the harassment in school stopped but the rejection in the house grew. I began to feel alone and upset with everything around me. I just thought it was normal at the age of 13 to be having these feelings. I thought the source of the problem came down to one word, puberty. As a year passed my sisters began to get more and more favored by the day, but once again I just hid my feelings behind a smile. That one action began to evolve into a life-threatening habit, and I didn’t even see it evolving. As freshman year of highschool hit, it felt like I was just bombarded with stress and problems. My grades became a huge issue, I was beginning to see my grades fall into the 50-60 range. I knew my parents would be furious, so I made a choice to try and change my grades on my report card. It only took a day until my parents figured out that I had changed my grades, and I got into huge trouble for it. By the time Spring came I began to feel more worse about who I was and who I was going to turn out to be. I told my mother that I wanted to go see a counselor, but she thought that it was not needed. Once again I had to attempt to hide everything behind a smile. As summer passed the stress began to grow larger, even though school was over and I began to find myself thinking about the topic “suicide.” Depression was the source of suicide, and I wanted to possibly do anything to make it go away. One night I had found myself making myself throw up. (Bulemia) The after affect of throwing up was sucha huge relief it became, sort of a habit. Bulemia, was the only way I handled my stress, and it worked well for a while. For about a 2 month period I stopped throwing up, because I had found no need to use it anymore. In the middle of October I was out with my bestfriend one night and I had received a horrible, upsetting phone call from my step-father. I had gotten a message that a close friend of mine, who was also my next-door neighbor had committed suicide. He had told me that he had hung himself in his garage. Atfirst I cried for about an hour and I somehow felt fine afterwards. I guess the thought had not really hit me. About two days later my friend and I went to a prayer service for him, because the funeral was private. After that, everything went down hill. His death had finally hit me. About a couple days later I found myself throwing up in the bathroom again. I now began to do it several times a day, five out of seven days. I told my boyfriend about it and thought it would remain secret, and it did for a while. As Bulemia got worse he grew more scared for my health, and my life. One night after he knew I was asleep he called my mother and has told her what was up. She immediately contacted my doctor and a counselor. By the next morning my mother and step-father told me they knew what I have been doing to myself. They promised they would find me help, and I went along with everything. I began to see all types of counselors but none of them seemed right for me. It seemed like my depression had grown by the minute and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I began to pull away from my friends and my high social life. I would just hide up in my room and exclude my self from everyone. As I lay in my bed at night, the topic of “suicide” filled my mind. I began asking myself “what if,” or “maybe I should.” Those thoughts had stayed in my mind for a large amount of time. I began to blame myself for the death of my friend and the depression grew worse. Even though I was in counseling, talking to these professional people who knew about depression, suicide, and bulemia, everything began to become worse. My mother had contacted a nurse who put my on medication and she also had contacted a new counselor. From there my luck was about to change. I began to see a new counselor who, for once made me feel higer and better about myself. The medication seemed alright. All of a sudden out of nowhere the only thing that had filled my mind one night was “suicide.” I began to overdose on painkillers and began to cut. I had to go farther than bulemia. My counselor told me the only thing that would work, was time. I thought to myself that my time was beginning to seem short. The more I went to counseling the more my problems seemed to die down. I tried to think positive in times of negativity. That seemed alot better than cutting, throwing up, and overdosing, to me. A couple months had passed and I began to feel that the topic of communication was easier for me. I found myself not being able to hide behind my smile, but talking about how I felt. A huge weight had been lifted off of my back and I didn’t seem to want the need to end life. It seemed that all of the people around me had just stopped what they were doing, and just focused on me. For once in life I had the feeling of being wanted and not the feelings of rejection. People think that depression can never been helpd or solved, but the only thing you need is time….