My name is Rachel, I'm 15. Very depressed. I want to show you how I feel. I feel depressed, upset, ashamed, scared and frustrated. I'm calm. I'm angry deep inside, but I'm not in a rage. I'm full of bad things. I've got to get them out. I pull my hair out coz it feels like a bad hair, and it's got to go. I cut myself coz I feel like the blood is bad stuff, oozing out, and I feel better for a while.

Theres not just one thing I can put my finger on that caused me to make this decision. In a way, I've always thought about dying, about just ending it all. Obviously, it all started when my dad died. He was a rock in my life and it cut me up watching mum grieve for him, she was hysterical. Then when I got older I learned that I was different from everyone else. I had a skin disease and people used to stare. No-one would hold my hand in the playground coz they thought they might catch something. I used to rock back and forth at home, constantly planning out how I could somehow make them hold my hand. It never worked. People treated me differently, even adults. I hated pity. I hated people who felt sorry for me. I always thought about death then. It would put me back with my daddy. Then we got into debt, and mum was never happy. My granny died of cancer, on my dad's death anniversary. Then my other grandma got cancer. My family ignores me alot, I don't know alot of things which go on in my family. There's a lot of other stuff. like having to put on creams 3times a day, all over my body and it barely even makes a difference, I still get made fun of, I still get stared at. I'm failing school, my grades are dropping and my mum hardly even notices me anymore. My skin's getting worse. I got dumped. I'm paranoid coz my friends say they can hardly notice it, so why can people who just glance at me notice it so well? I'm losing my friends. They say they're here for me, but really they're all just afraid of me. They're intimidated by someone like me, someone who has the guts to admit they're unhappy and watches the blood ooze out of them. Its satisfying.

You probably won't understand half of the stuff I just said. Only I understand myself. I'm going to kill myself soon. It's the only thing I can do. I'm stuck.

If you have any feedback on my "story" email me:
thedevilbitmybum@hotmail.com