Hello, nice to meet you…

Hi, my name is Dallas, nice to meet you.

I’ve got a secret to tell you, but first, you must hear my story

I am 15 years young. “I’m fine” is my favorite thing to say. I bet you’re a bit like me. I’ve dealt with depression, anxiety, insomnia, and minor PTSD. They’ve treated me like a lab rat. I’ve been on almost every psych medicine you could possibly think of. I’ve been hospitalized 20+ times in the past two and a half years, because people freak out. I’ve been to 2 residential placements, Valle Vista and Allendale. Have you heard of them? Well, they sucked. Sure, it was fun sometimes, but others I couldn’t stand it. After I got out of Valle Vista, I relapsed quickly. Back to the hospital. Then after a few times, they thought to send me to a “therapeutic school”, North Shore Academy. It sucks too. I cannot handle the social situations and hate my teacher. The kids like to pick on my a lot, but I do have some friends. Most of them are just friendly people, not really friends. Or people that want to get in my pants. Either way, I like their company. I have a boyfriend, we’ve only been together for 2 months. It’s going well. I guess I’m getting a little bored and annoyed at times. He’s not the brightest bulb… Either way, I still love him. My teacher, Dan Iacch, is an asshole to me. He’s also like 40. I don’t do well with crabby OLD teachers. Hopefully I’ll be working one on one with one of the younger assistant teachers that understand how hard it is for me in school. I have a therapist there, Joanna Robbins. I guess she’s alright. She makes me mad a lot, though. She speaks like a therapist. I hate that. I have to have lots of peer mediations because since I don’t talk to many of my peers they misinterpret what I do or say. Then they go and complain about me “bullying” them. Funny, cuz they’re the ones bullying me. Once, I sent a picture of my boobs to this guy Mike. He was so cute and I wanted his attention on me. Then, we got into an argument and stopped talking to eachother. One Friday, he tried to fight me in the gym (real manly move). Ofcourse, he didn’t do anything. He just yelled at me and threatened me and my boyfriend at the time. I got over it. Then I figured out what happened the day before. He sent those pictures to a lot of people in my school. I was horrified. Humiliated. Wanted to just get out, leave, go away forever. So, I kinda did. I shut everybody out. Even my “friends.” I sat and listened to music all day and did my school work. I wrote letters back and forth with Mike, just expressing things. I spoke to the police. They said if things get worse to press charges against child pornography. So, I waited. I let the world slip away. Then, another horrible thing happened. I was in a service learning group that does charity things. We were making “boograms”, tootsie pops with tissue over them to make ghosts. This big girl Amari was threatening and talking down to this other girl, Brianna, and I did not appreciate it. (Note: Me and Brianna were friends and did not get along with Amari.) So, I stood up for her. Then Amari, who is like twice my size, came up and hit me a few times. It wasn’t much, just a few punches to the head. Then the staff got in between her and me and held her back. Amari kept yelling that she beat my ass. I didn’t really care. All she did was hit me like 3 times. No bruises or anything left either. Anyways, I pressed charges and she got expelled from school. Then I separated myself from everybody again. It wasn’t an easy time. I got better and started getting involved again. I finally spoke to Mike face to face. It went well. We’re okay now. We’re not like best friends or anything, but we talk on Facebook and stuff. It’s a start. (Going back a few months:) After I left Allendale, I went to a group home, Rhonda Alter. My parents hated me being there. I went home every weekend to visit, from August until December. Then, we had winter break! I left Illinois and went to Georgia. It was a nice break from life. I laid in bed all day for almost a week. I got a lot if rest. Then, my dad refused to send me back to the group home. So, I’m living back at home now. It’s going good, for the most part. I smoke weed. That’s the only thing I do. But wait, there’s more… My secret…
I also self harm. A whole new story. It started in sixth grade. This girl Alyssa was so fascinating to me. So, I became “friends” with her. One day, she said, “Do you want to be emo with me?” I wasn’t quite sure what that meant. So I asked. She told me, “Well, it’s where you wear black a lot, wear dark makeup, and cut yourself.” It was a whole new concept to me. I didn’t know why somebody would cut themselves, but I also watched Degrassi. Shocker. They had parts where girls were anorexics and self harmers. They fascinated me just like Alyssa did. It was amazing. So, I tried it. I took a knife from our drawer and went to my room. I cut my skin open. Some on the inside of my arm, some on the top. Then I showed Alyssa. She then proceeded to tell everybody, including the principal. Then they told my dad. I didn’t cut for a release, I cut to be like Alyssa. Yes, it was stupid, but the story goes on. I told my dad I would not do it again, and I didn’t. Until we moved out of Peotone and up to Deerfield. School was good for a while, and the popular girls wanted me to sit with them. I had no clue where to sit, so I sat with some un-popular girls. I switched tables sometimes, but the popular girls didn’t really want me around anymore. I wasn’t fit for them. So I went back and stayed with my friend Niky. We were close for a long time, until one day I got into a fight with one of the girls and they all kicked me out of their “group.” I was so upset. I had nobody. I didn’t know what to do. Then I remembered cutting… The release. So I did it again. And again. And again. It became a habit. I got caught a lot. Got sent to psych wards a Iot. Nobody understood. Now, my boyfriend is criticizing me for it. It hurts when he does that. Some of my friends blame themselves for not being there for me when I do it. It’s difficult to have relationships with people when you’re depressed. Anyways, that’s my story…. 😔 Suicide seems like a nice idea..