another suicide story (true)

I haven’t told anyone this just because it’s hard for me, and no one has really cared to ask but it’s okay. I’m only posting this here because we’re all alike and we don’t judge each other.
I never really have been a kid with friends, not until this year. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t because I was antisocial. I was and still am the exact opposite. always making people laugh, smiling, and talking to people, but other than that, I was pretty much always ignored, and I was “the girl who most people like but doesn’t have any friends.” And let me tell you, it was worse than being quiet with no friends.
in elementary school, i didn’t really notice, because it was smaller and all. I talked to the kids in my class, then i’d go spend tons of recesses and lunches by myself.
Middle school is what I wish i could go back and completely erase.
6th grade was my complete ugly phase, which sucked because everyone was having cute little 2 day relationships except for me. Aside from that, I was actually bullied for being my cheerful self. People would call me ugly, fat, and throw me down stairs, they liked to make fun of my race, they would also tell me to kill myself because no one liked me. I would just go home and cry, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My parents would find me crying in my room, and ignore me. Then one day, my mom threw me against a wall and grabbed my shirt, saying that if I didn’t stop crying she would send me to live with my grandparents. She compared me to other kids who had good grades, were pretty, and weren’t fat. This was the start to a period where I was hurt, at home too. The only place I had complete freedom was at soccer, none of the bullies were there to bother me, not my parents, no one but my team that I absolutely loved. It was an escape from everything, and I was good too, so I had one thing to like about myself. I dreaded going home more than anything. One day, my coach saw a whole bunch of bruises and scratches on my arms and asked where they came from. I said I had no idea. He shrugged and said he was there if I needed to talk.
7th grade led to my first suicide attempt. I swallowed 40 Tylenol in December, but it only led to me going to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. I started cutting myself November of that year. During school soccer, the same people who had bullied me in 6th grade joined, and tormented me worse than ever. I didn’t go to school for 2 days, in that time I mostly just stayed in bed, not wanting to live. It got better after soccer was over, and I returned to my cheerful self for the rest of the year, still friendless, but my parents weren’t hurting me like they had before. They worried when I had my overdose, but I promised I wouldn’t again and they believed me.
8th grade was the worst. I was ignored by everyone, and everytime I tried to say something, I got a reply like “shut up you talk too much, no one wants to hear it.” All those years of being ignored had built up, and I was at my all time low. I felt like no one wanted me, like a mosquito. This guy that I had the biggest crush on since 5th grade actually told me he had been using me. I hid it all well. No one suspected I was depressed, not at school, home, nowhere. Thats what bothered me. No one paid attention of any kind to me. In reality, I had become a heavy drinker, smoker, I popped pills regularly, and cut myself.
I am a huge fan of tumblr, a blogging website where other users can send you messages. One night in April, I got an anonymous one saying how I was worthless, and all the reasons why I should kill myself. Some people from school saw it, and really stood up for me, posting stuff on Facebook about how the anon should come clean, and who would do that to anyone. Though I appreciated what they did a lot, my second suicide attempt was that night. I tried to drown myself in the bathtub, but it didn’t work. I came out of the water, maybe 80% dead, gasping for air, thinking “I need another way to kill myself, this isn’t it.” I didn’t tell my parents or anyone.
The rest of the year was a blur, and I was in my dark period of time again. That summer was worse. No one invited me to parties, to their house, to the movies…I actually only got a total of 4 messages. I was feeling terrible, and looked it too. I had started starving myself, to look skinny for a vacation i was going on in August. My skin was all cut up, my wrists were completely red, no white anywhere to be seen. One afternoon, I asked my mom to drop me off at the beach. She happily agreed, thinking i was meeting friends and that they would give me a ride home. I ran towards the water, i went deeper and deeper and deeper. I had my whole body in the water, and I was ready to die, but then I felt hands grab me around my waist, and pull me out. I don’t remember who it was, as I had choked on water, and was a whole train wreck of emotions. He or she stayed with me for a while, then I fell asleep. I woke up and they were gone. I walked home.
I haven’t touched a razor blade, Tylenol, or a pack of cigarettes since then. I quit drinking in September. I did all this by withdrawing myself. I have faced some challenges this year, but I’m not broken like I used to be. I have great friends, a great family, great support, and I’m happy to say my outgoing, cheerful self is back and better than ever. Through this, I learned that life is precious, and people care even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes. That one kind stranger saved me when I was the closest I had ever been to ending everything. If I could meet them, it would mean everything to me, but I’ll probably never know. yeah. that’s it.