Trigger Warning: This article discusses self-harm, suicide, and bullying.
If you’ve met me in person, you might not realize that I suffer from severe, chronic depression. Depending on what I’ve worn, you might not think someone so outgoing and openly dorky could possibly be hurting. If you’ve only read my writing, then you’ve only seen the confident, self-reliant side of myself I show to the public. Let me remove my digital cardigan and disabuse you of your assumptions.
I was bullied mercilessly as a child. When I wasn’t isolated and alone, I was being picked on. I was bullied at Girl Scouts, at camp, during sports, during bell choir practice, and everywhere else I had to interact with my age peers. No one, not a single adult, ever stepped in to help me.