Continued...

That year I became so numb I couldn't see what was happening. I had heard of depression, I knew all the facts and what to look out for but I didn't realise It was happening to me. I couldn't understand why I would cry, deep sobs where you would struggle to breathe for hours on end. I didn't understand why I was so tired and slept 18 hour days. I was afriad to go outside, or even out of my room. I was terrified and I had no idea what was wrong with me.

It was then that I started cutting. I can't tell you how the idea came into my head but something in me told me this is what I needed to do. It became my drug of choice. The relief, (as if high) that I felt was like nothing I have ever experienced. I became addicted. Cutting was my best friend and my worst enemy all at the same time.

Months after I started this secret ritual I ended up in the psychiatric ward of a public hospital. It was then that my story and my struggle for survival really began...