First post

Hi, my name is Melissa. I’m very new to this, I just wanted to share some stuff about my life.
Ever since I was little my mom and dad always had problems so, they’d fight a whole lot and my mom would kick my dad out of the house. My mom would kick my dad out of the house, because he’d always be drinking, and they were always fighting with eachother. I remember hearing my mom cry outside at 3 in the morning, my dad going outside and asking what was wrong when he was the problem.
I would get depressed, because my dad was my favorite and I just wouldn’t see him a lot.
5th grade things started to get bad, I would get called fat, whale, hippo, etc, because I was very large.
My so called friends wouldn’t speak to me, because of a girl that would tell them not to.
At the end of 5th grade I started loosing a lot of weight, because I knew that if I went to a public school I’d get bullied a lot for being fat since public schools are big. At my private school there was only about 15 kids in each grade level. During the summer, I lost 20 lbs in a very short amount of time. I began to to pull my hair to the point where I had large bald spots, I was diagnosed with trichitilomania. 6th grade I still had family troubles and friends backstabbing me, I began to cut myself a lot and I would make myself throw up (bulimia). People would ask me why I had a big bald spot, I would change the topic.
I only told a couple of my friends. I’d hear people ask my friends if I suffered cancer, I would get made fun of a lot. I began going to a therapist, it worked a little. After I stopped going, I started to get bad again. I would make myself throw up way too much.
I couldn’t eat without the food coming back by itself.
I told my mom that my food came back by itself not telling her what caused that to happen. So, my mom decided to take me to the doctor and I had to get a camera inside my stomach.
I went to the hospital for the exam or whatever it was.
Once I woke up I was still not myself since they put me to sleep, I ended up telling my mom I cut myself and showed her my scars.
Once we came home, I was myself, the anesthesia wore off and my mom told me I had to go to a psychiatrist.
He (psychiatrist) asked me a a lot of questions, I lied and said I was okay, because my mom was in the room and I didn’t want her to feel like it was her fault for the way I felt and for the things that I did to myself.
Psychiatrist said I was okay. I kept it all to myself, I never want back.
7th grade things were the same. I went to a different school, I was very unhappy with my body, myself, and I just didn’t like the school.
I felt so alone every day even when I was around my friends. I still did cut myself and made myself throw up. I just kept it all to myself and I only told a couple of my friends, they didn’t understand. I felt like a failure, my friends would get good grades except me.
I started getting anxiety attacks at the end of the year and I became antisocial. I would never go out, I never wanted to see anyone. I always felt like I was being judged when I was around my friends and people.
I began doing drugs with my close friend Iris, she understood me better than anyone ever did.
We tried weed first, then acid. When we first tried acid, we liked it, we would do it very often during the summer. We would do ecstasy, weed, & get drunk a lot. We were in a really bad place.
She moved to Austin and I just didn’t have anyone to talk to anymore, we still talk, but things just aren’t the same anymore. I decided to go back to my old school from 6th grade. I’m now in 8th grade and I’m really unhappy with my body, myself, and everything.
I’ve been planning to kill myself for the longest time, but I just don’t know why I haven’t.
I’ve been suicidal since 6th grade, why am I still here?
I don’t know what’s stopping me, there’s nothing here for me. I get anxiety attacks every day, but my medication kind of helps to calm me down.
I hadn’t cut myself for a while, but recentIy I’ve been feeling so alone and dead inside. I’m now cutting myself, it calms me down. I’m making myself throw up again, I stopped for a while. I just want to be skinny and happy.
I simply don’t want to be here, I feel so alone.
My family makes fun of me, because they think I’m crazy and that It’s all in my mind.
So yeah, pretty much I’m ready to drop dead, but I just haven’t done it yet which really upsets me.
I know I’m going to kill myself very soon, I’m probably going to overdose. I don’t want anyone to tell me that things will get better, because I for sure fucking know they won’t get any better.
I came here to blab about how I feel and see if there’s anyone that can relate to me.
I’m sorry… I don’t know how to work this website or what to type.
I problaly made some spelling and punctuation mistakes.
I’m sorry. I hope no one judges me, says I’m too young to be sad or that I’m stupid.