This is my entire story. It's kind of long. I don't know if anyone actually wants to hear it, but I'm having a low and am currently not seeing anoyone and I just need to get it out. I've never actually told my entire story to anyone. It's been botteling up inside me for all these years. The last time something did that I almost died.

I was a happy child. No abuse, never deprived of anything, plenty of friends. I gre up an only child with both parents working full time jobs. I spent a lot of time at day cares, babysitters, afterschool programs, camps, etc. My dad was patient and caring. Despite failing at owning his own business, he never let those feelings affect me. My mother, the executive vice president of a business, dealt with a lot of stress and often brought it home. Before being diagnoised with ADHD and being put on medication, she would throw tantrums and throw things and scare the living crap out of me. From time to time she still does but not nearly as often.

Around ten I began to feel alone. We moved from our condo in a close knit community to a house in the middle of the woods, our closeest neighbor not even in screaming distance. I never invited friends over and stopped talking to my old neighbors. I isolated myself more and more, and the more isolated i became the sadder i felt. The older I got, I worse I began to feel. I was becoming more and more depressed and I just wallowed in it. Slowly I stopped caring and began feeling like I was worthless. I wanted to die. I saw a therapist and was put on some medication but was always too afraid to tell anyone that dark little secret. I just kept thinking if I could make it to college and get away from this town and these people, eveything would be okay.

My senior year in high school, I began feeling hopeful. This was my last year in here and soon I would be gone. Everything was going to be okay. I made it to college but things didn't turn out quite how I expected. The school I picked had 20,000 other students, which was about the size of my town. I originally picked the school because it had a laid back feel and I figured with a student body that big I could re-invent myself. What I didn't count on was with that many people, you never see the same person twice. And the laid back feeling was actually a huge party scene. People drank and did drugs every night of the week, including my roommate, who I didn't really "click" with.

I didn't understand. It wasn't supposed to be like this. College was going to my solution to depression, instead it was making everything worse. I developed a plan to kill myself. Since college wasn't the answer I assumed nothing was.

Luckily, my mom found out about my plan and immediatly got me into a facility to be treated. I was diagnoised with Major Despressive Disorder with Bipolar Tendencies. (Along with this life-long illness I also have PolySistic Ovarian Syndrom which means my body doesn't "like" sugar and I may have trouble getting pregnant when I get older and have food "issues" meaning I've never really dealt with them) I found it odd that the medicine the hospital put me on was supposed to bring out my Bipolar tendencies, but I didn't really care seeing as how I finally didn't want to die and was feeling content. I spent 31 days at the hospital and while I was there met tons of great people who I ended up becoming great friends with.

When I got home I began feeling alone again but that's because I literally was. All (3) my highschool friends were away at college. I started looking into new schools to attend and thinking about what I wanted to do with my future. I decided no one should ever be in the kind of place I was in and want to help people from getting to that point. My mom suggested a school that I thought was out of the question but agreed to visit anyway. I worked with my therapist to prepare for the visit and keep my anexity down. I ended up falling in love with the school and am currently attending there.

I took my meds everyday and blah blah blah but they made me tired all the time. I would take two hour naps everyday and people would ask me if I was depressed or sick or something. I tried to explain it was just the side efects of my medications but they didn't seem to understand. In fact no seems to understand that fact. People say I should take less meds or different ones, but they don't understand how scared that makes me. The meds I'm on now work and I don't want to mess with that. Despit the sleeping, I made a ton of great friends and some really close connections.

Also while at school, I became more outgoing. The person I was felt I was ment to be was finally out in the open. I went out partying and was drinking almost every weekend the second semester. Never getting too drunk but enough that I was more then tipsy. I was also finally getting attention from guys, something that had never happened to me before. Despite being overweight, guys wanted to dance with me and kiss me and even have sex with me. I couldn't believe it. One of the things I had always longed for and it was starting to come around. A boyfriend, that closeness, that kind of belonging to someone. I wanted them to keep wanting me. I equated wanting to liking, so I gave them what they wanted. My first year in college I lost my virginity and had sex with eight other guys. I did a bunch of other stuff with six other guys. That's a total of fourteen and it honestly disgusts me. I still don't know how to handel that.

When I got home for the summer, I got a little off my routine. I took my meds whenever I could remember and hung out with people less often. Somehow I got to a point when I didn't take my meds for two weeks straight. That's when it began again. I felt sad and alone and started crying. I knew something was wrong and immeditaly began taking my meds once I realized but it takes a while for it to kick in. And that's what lead me to this. The need to get it all out, even no one ever reads it.