I’ve had a pretty rough year and to sum the whole thing up, I’ll start from November 2007. I had chronic Glandular Fever and was hospitalised for just under a month, along with chronic Tonsilitis. After recoving as best I could from the Glandular Fever (which still isn’t completely gone, I get sick and chronically tired alot, I get major depressed lows and I lose my appetite a lot and find it hard to do strenous things like work and school) It was suddenly March. I was trying my hardest to cope with day to day life with school, work and family troubles and I had to have my tonsils taken out. I was fine with that it meant no more tonsilitis every weekend, as I was recovering from that a very close friend of mine suicided. I didn’t know how I was supposed to deal with this, I cried and cried I felt so useless and worthless and it was so hard to get out of bed. I didn’t have any support because my parents couldn’t understand how to comfort me, and they didn’t know how to take away the pain I was feeling. Everything became too much which was the first time in my life I really felt that my life was out of control, I was spinning around and I didn’t know how to stop myself or where to even begin. School raged on, I couldn’t cope at all with the assignments rolling in too. Year 11 was just too much. I was numb, for eight months all I can describe it as, is numb. I don’t remember much about it, I just put on a mask and pretended to be fine. I would cut myself a lot, mainly on the tops of my legs so nobody would see but it still wouldn’t help, it only numbed the pain for so little time. My family was breaking up around me and so were all my friends at school and suddenly, driving home I found myself crossing the road and headed for a house. I don’t know what I was thinking that day, and it scares me senseless to remember that day but my car collided with a massive fence post and I’m lucky to be alive. I over corrected the steering wheel and the car did a full 360 turn, luckily. All the impact was on the passengers side, the glass shattered and my fist went through the dash. I came out with cuts, bruises, broken knuckles and fingers, and really bad whiplash. That’s when my parents made the decision to send me to a Child and Adolescent Mental Health unit. I was too tired from keeping up the mask that I didn’t even argue, I just packed what I was told and went along with them. The people there are so amazing, they genuinly care about how I’m really doing and I don’t have to pretend anymore. They helped me in my darkest hours, they’ve supported me so much and without them I wouldn’t still be here. I owe so much of my strength to those people. I still have my bad days but they’ve helped me realise that I’m not the only one going through all this; the sleepless nights, the terrifying dreams, loss of appetite, numbness, uselessness, lonelyness. It’s still not easy, but it’s alot easier than it was. I have new ways of coping now, I write alot and draw, paint or play the piano, it’s all a relese for me.