If you've ever seen anything in the news related to Netflix, you've probably heard of a show titled "13 Reasons Why." This "teen drama" profiles a young woman named Hannah Baker who commits suicide and leaves a trail of tapes disclaiming why she did it. This show has come under controversy from mental health advocates and individuals alike who condemn the show for its insensitivity to such as serious issue. As an individual who once had the same thoughts that Hannah had, I can tell you I know exactly why everyone hates it. Leaving a bunch of recordings blaming people isn't the best way to prevent people from taking their own lives. Sharing the bitter truth IS.

Okay, now that we've got that out in the open, I'm ready to share the bitter truth about what self harm and suicide have done to my life. Comfy? Excellent. Let's begin.

It likely started off at age ten, with a fascination about poisonous materials and what it would be like to taste them and get sick. (Not exactly sure why I would want to make myself ill on purpose, but it just seemed so interesting for some reason, just to see what these objects would taste like). Eventually I decided to give it a shot and squeeze some purple acrylic paint onto my tongue. Oh boy, talk about bad taste in more ways than one! It tasted the exact same way it smelled. (AKA not very pleasant). But it was this one incident that changed my life forever. I told my friend what I had done, since she and I were always doing things we knew we weren't supposed to. Jokingly she replied to me, "Nicki, that's not poisoning, that's SUICIDE!" I asked her what that was, and she told me it was the process of intentionally killing oneself. Didn't mean much to me then, but boy, was that about to change...

I'd say thoughts of death first crossed my mind at about the age of eleven. I was a stressed-out, hormone-and-anxiety filled preteen, and everything just seemed like a battle. Worse, I felt like I was all alone and nobody wanted me. I always thought my classmates were after me, especially the boys. There were several moments where I talked about wanting to stick myself with daggers and I'd say them in front of my classmates. Thankfully, my homeroom teacher heard about it all, pulled me aside, and notified my mother about all of this. I was super aggravated at the time. Why couldn't people just leave me alone instead of turning me into "Middle School's Most Wanted?" Why couldn't teachers just focus on kids who shouted out in class instead of putting me at the top of the intervention list? It was all totally unfair.

Or so I thought.

To Be Continued...