I fell into a deep depression. It got so bad when I was 18 that I began contemplating suicide. I wish I could say that was the moment I turned my life around, but it wasn’t, a couple months later weighing only 38kg, hair falling out from all the chemo meds, I was admitted to the hospital. As I lay in my hospital bed, the moment that completely changed my life was when my doctor told me things weren’t looking good, and that I could die.

Almost a year ago today I began experiencing psychosis. Before that I always had a very low mood. I’m now fourteen and have been diagnosed with depression with psychotic symptoms and also bulimia nervosa. The past year has been a tough one, but one I am forever grateful for. I have learnt things I never thought I would and met people I never would have if it wasn’t for my illness.

I’m here to tell you, you’re not going insane- this is anxiety. It’s very common and in the words of Tom Jones, it’s not unusual. Contrary to what you may have thought before- anxiety is not just worrying.

Whilst telling your parents might feel like the last thing you want to do, it’s important that you try. If you can’t tell them, then you need to speak to someone that you trust, maybe a grandparent or other relative. Talking about your problems can help you to feel better and understand how you’re feeling more clearly. Anxiety and depression can make you feel alone, but it’s important to remember that you’re not. Help is out there, and your parents will be able to offer you advice and guidance.

I’ve been coping better with self-hatred by envisioning my inner self as a beaten and maimed person who needs to be nurtured and healed.Now, when I feel a surge of negative emotions coming on I turn to the nearest empty chair or space and visualize my hurt self in that emptiness. In my mind, I ask if he is alright and if he needs anything. I treat him as a friend in need.

Do you know what it’s like to live your life never feeling normal? I do. I remember when I was young, no older than 6 or 7 years, and I threw up in the middle of the street while talking to a neighbor; a relative of mine hollered, “WHY CAN’T YOU BE NORMAL LIKE OTHER KIDS?” As I sat crying, wondering what exactly I could do to fix myself. I was a sickly child and no doctor or specialist could determine what was wrong), I began to feel less than adequate.

How did I get Here? Someone recently presented me with the question; “How did you get to where you are today? What made you realize you had to make a change?”Let me just say it wasn’t easy, but I will make my best attempt at answering those questions and sharing my journey.

I am diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and struggle with intrusive thoughts. It’s not necessarily that I need to keep things tidy as some people think. In fact, for me, it is much more an obsessive state of mind that revolves around the ‘need’ for things to be a certain way. My symptoms range from some simple things like a series of checks and actions that I have to do before I go to sleep every night to the need to keep all of the information that comes my way and protectively store it.