I'm not even 22, and yet already I've been through a lot. I never really imagined growing up would be like this, but it is.
Throughout elementary school, I was bullied, beaten up, and I grew terrified of school, but still enjoyed learning.
At 14, I was assaulted by a boy I thought I could trust, with the help of my first ever real boyfriend.
When I was 15, I said yes for the first time, but within a year I was experiencing psychological abuse from my first love. I also lost my best friend to suicide one week before I turned 16. By the time I was 17, I'd miscarried a pregnancy because he'd pushed me down a flight of stairs. Throughout all of these events, I blamed myself, wondering what was so wrong with me to cause these things to happen. I experimented with marijuana, and also self-harm. I never told anyone until I was caught with cuts on my arm, but even then I left things out.
Now, I'm in university, counting myself lucky to have made it this far. But the battles aren't over yet. Recurring nightmares, social anxiety that cripples at times, and unstable moods -- my psychiatrist has put me on medication that is supposed to help, but it only makes me numb most of the time. I feel like my struggle is my own, and that nobody can understand it. My own parents have told me that it will just go away and that I should get over it. This, however, makes me feel worse, because I realize they think my struggle isn't real. I hope one day to be able to keep my head above the avalanche, but for now I feel trapped, scared, and alone.