For 16 years, I have felt helpless, worthless, anxious, lonely and depressed. 16 years. That is literally half my life. It's a scary thought when I think about that. 16 years of virtually hiding who I am. This no doubt has affected my relationships with friends, family and boyfriends. There are constant feelings of life passing me by and there is constant disappointment about where my life has headed.
I guess I have been fortunate that even though I have had suicidal thoughts, they have been far and few in between and I never realistically thought of going through with it. The closest I ever came was running a push pin up and down my arm till I bled. Just ended up looking like a cat had scratched me. This was during my late high school years and early university life and have since realised that that type of behaviour is not at all healthy and the faint scars on my arms remind me of this.