When I was a little kid, I was bullied — A lot. I remember when it first happened so vividly.

I was in first grade; we were in the middle of our weekly reading session with our partner class from the second grade. I was reading a book with my friends when suddenly one of the older kids came over to me.

"She's reading a chapter book! What a nerd!" he laughed. I did not.

It was no secret that from a very young age I read far above the level that I was supposed to. My mother's love for reading was passed onto me-- I consumed books left and right, not a single pause between them. I remember feeling really bad about myself when the kids laughed but little did I know that it would get much worse.

As the years went on, the bullying got worse. In fact, in the fourth grade, I had to sit in the back of the class at a desk all by itself so that the other kids wouldn't bug me. Science was my favorite class, and I could barely even see the board. I made friends with another outcast and I was bullied for that too.

In the fifth grade, I spent way too much time in the guidance counselor's office. There was a girl who was almost determined to make my life a living hell-- and she was successful. Whenever I tried to talk to anyone about it, they would say that I just didn't understand her. She acted like my friend on the bus, but in class, I was nothing more than a doormat.

I remember sitting by myself during our Valentine's Day party and crying because no one wanted to talk to me or sit by me. I cried way too often and I began to hate myself that year.

More time went on and the bullying got even worse.

In the seventh grade, I missed a lot of school because I would get such bad anxiety from just the thought of school that I would throw up whatever was in my stomach. I got scary skinny that year because anything I ate came right back up.

There was another period of time that year when a girl managed to make me completely friendless. All I had was my boyfriend. Thank God I met my current best friend a little while after that. But even they couldn't help me or my questionable stomach problems. I didn't understand that I had anxiety, so I never asked for help.

My first year of high school was not kind to me either. If it wasn't for my shop and English teachers, I probably wouldn't have survived. The stomach problems returned, and I found myself nearly getting sick after every football game when I performed in marching band. A girl who I thought was my best friend left me for a boy.

Sophomore year was worse, but nothing could come close to junior year.

Junior year was the year I began self-harming.

If you have never self-harmed before, you won't understand how addicting it is. You just want to feel something, even if that something is pain. Managers at my job would see my cuts but never ask questions, it tore my boyfriend apart and my parents didn't know. My best friend's dad died, and I lost her too.

Finally, one night I asked my mom to come into my room. I showed her my cuts and I cried, and I begged her to get me help.

I saw my doctor and he told me I had "mild depression and maybe just some situational anxiety." I couldn't believe that what I was feeling was only "mild" in his eyes.

I wasn't eating, I was sleeping all the time, I lost my love for dance and going out with friends, I wasn't happy, I hated myself, but I was only "mildly" depressed. My mom took me to see a therapist.

Now, it's years later and I have finally accepted who I am.

I am a girl who needs to take 40mg of Celexa and 140mg of Wellbutrin just to feel OK. I have to talk to someone at least once a week to feel OK. I have to have someone constantly remind me that I'm here for a reason.

But that's OK.

Some people are just hardwired to feel a certain way or suffer from a certain thing, but that's OK. Some people need to take medication, some people don't. Some people need to see a therapist, some people don't.

Mental illnesses are battles fought by only one person — yourself. If you can find the willpower to accept the fact that you're sick and need help, that is the first day you win the war. You deserve help. There are resources out there for you; go find them. Be happy.

Call a truce between yourself and your mind.

If you are thinking of suicide or self-harming, here is a list of resources:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline:

1-800-273-8255 (there is also a chat online)

Vent:

An app that is available in both the App Store and Google Play. This app allows you to categorize and talk about your feelings anonymously while also allowing other anonymous users to reply and offer help.

HeartSupport:

https://heartsupport.com/
A nonprofit support system run by many bands. Articles are posted weekly on forums ranging on topics from suicide to rape. You can also post in the forum to get help.

Self Injury Foundation's 24-hour national crisis line:

1-800-334-HELP

Domestic violence hotline:

1-800-799-SAFE

Never be afraid to call 911 if you are worried that someone you love may have committed or is thinking about committing suicide.