I’ve heard so many life stories… Some sad, some happy, and some all of the above, but now I want to share mine… So here we go… Hey, my name is Arianna… I’m a 13 year old girl. I guess you could say I’ve been through a lot in life, but not as much as others… Currently I’m in a depression.. I lose and gain my appetite all the time, for no reason at all, I’ll get sad and or angry at myself, and lastly….. I self-harm… It all started 2-3 years ago. I was being bullied by two boys, that I will not name. These boys would remind me that I was fat… I’d usually just ignore it, I would pretend it didn’t faze me.. But that just made them try harder. One day they called me all of these names, that I rather not repeat. I couldn’t take it anymore. These boys lived in my neighborhood so I could easily walk home, so that’s what I did. I stormed inside crying and yelling for my mom, but she was with her friend, five or so houses down the street. My eyes instantly fell on a drawer filled with utensils like wooden spoons, spatulas, and knives. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, telling myself I wouldn’t do it. I would not turn to knives and sharp objects to cope with my feelings and emotions… But that’s exactly what I did; I grabbed the sharpest knife from that drawer and ran to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet lid, debating on whether I should permanently scar my body. That’s when all of the thoughts and memories flooded my brain.. All the times I was called names, all the times I felt worthless and all the times I thought the world would be better off without me… I took that knife I slid it against my wrist 4-5 times and countless times on my ankle… Something triggered in me that day, something that I would regret forever.. Skip a few months. I didn’t harm myself at all over those few months. Yes, I was still being called names by the two boys that had started the bullying from the beginning. The eldest one somewhat died down on the whole bullying thing, but the youngest kept on trying harder and harder. My mom soon found out, she checked my wrists, nothing. Skip about a year later. I didn’t self-harm at all. One of them moved and the other stopped bullying me. I thought the self-harm thing was just faze, but I was wrong… I started hating my body and was just always depressed.. I began cutting again more and more, but only my legs and or my stomach… I’m not proud of what I’ve been doing for several years now; I don’t just go around telling people either. I know I need help, but I just don’t simply want it. I know I should stop, but I cant.. It’s harder to stop then to begin. Everyone copes with their feelings differently… The way I cope with mine just happens to be one of the ways how many, many others cope with theirs… And I also do think about suicide all the time.