Dictionaries define the term "stuck" as being in place or unable to move. That's not what I think of when I hear the word stuck. We all have different meanings for different words. When someone says the word "stuck" I think of life, and mainly reflecting off of my life, because once I was stuck, and the truth is that it sucks.

Growing up, I was as close to perfect as I could get. I never had a cavity, never broken a bone, nothing was wrong with me and I loved knowing that nothing was wrong with me. It lasted until 7th grade. I hated junior high and I am not kidding when I say "hate." Honestly, I despised it. I was bullied and my life was a mess. It only got worse from there. When I was a teen I finally was taken to a doctor, and they did their exams and tests and sitting there, I thought,"Nothing's wrong. I'm still my perfect self." Little did I know, I was wrong.

My doctor walked back in the room, reporting a long list of things. And the more he listed off, the worst I felt. My doctor rattled off depression, attention deficit disorder (ADD), anxiety, bipolar, reactive attachment disorder (RAD) and he kept going, and a part of me wanted to scream at him to stop. I wanted him to know that I was still the perfect child. I was the no-cavity-no-broken-bones-no-illness child, but I didn't. I kept quiet, and with every diagnosis he named, the more I beat myself up. I was no longer perfect child. I was the depressed, ADD-having, anxiety-ridden, bipolar, RAD-having, etc. girl, and just like that, I felt "stuck."

As years went by, I went through hell and back. I never knew what the term "hitting rock bottom" meant until I hit it. And trust me, I hit it hard. Every medication they gave me, and every time they switched them, I felt like a science experiment, only I wasn't a A material. I was an F. I faced a whole school full of demons every day. People who viewed me as their friend once no longer had my back. I was slapped with labels: Crazy, psychotic, ugly, fat, an unfixable mess and so many others. As I walked the halls, rumors arose and the more I walked, the more were created. I was foolish and took it out on myself, and as the scars appeared, the questions began. I found myself lying on a daily basis, and those names I was being called stuck with me, and I believed them.

Instead of enjoying junior high like I should have, I was in and out of hospitals. My 8th grade year, I was put in a residential. Little did I know that while I was away, the rumors didn't stop. Three months later when I returned, it was like a mad house. I had been pregnant and gotten an abortion, committed a crime and gone to jail, was on house arrest, home schooled... you name it and it was said about me. I believed I was better, but I wasn't. I was constantly in and out of hospitals, and nothing had improved. I was convinced that I was, without a doubt, "stuck," and there was no escape from this hell I was living in.

During my freshman year of high school, I was away at another residential. I was there for seven months, and things got better. Much better. I returned to high school, well aware that the rumors would be all over the place, but somehow I got through it. I graduated successfully with many friends by my side. I loved life so much and I thank God every day for letting me have this second chance.

So to those who believe you are "stuck," yes, you may feel stuck, but there is a way out. God didn't put us on this earth to be stuck. We are free. The process is grueling and it sucks. It took everything in me and I fought like I had never fought before, but I made it. Yes, I am still diagnosed with plenty of things, but they don't define me. I'm free.

So for those of you who think it's too late, it's never too late, so get yourself unstuck. I did, and I'll be damned, does it feel amazing.