Age doesn’t hide the fact that any person can have a mental illness. I was diagnosed with depression, social anxiety disorder, and a mood disorder at the age of fourteen. I wasn't that surprised. Ever since I was in grade six, I had felt sad, distant from others, and my mood could switch instantly.

Throughout my childhood, I have had a dad who’s been quite hard on me. He pushes me to work hard in school and get good grades. He used to compare me to my older sister because she was older and more responsible. She would go to sleep at twelve a.m. after studying, and I would go to sleep at ten p.m. She was in high school, so of course she had a greater workload and therefore, worked much longer than I did. Even when I finished studying, he still got angry at me for going to sleep "early" or "playing on my phone too much". He used to yell at me, probably twice a week, often over my “attitude” or for not "working enough”. His anger and frustration made me feel like a burden. I cried most nights. I just felt like I was dumb and that I would make him and others much happier if I was gone. The only reason he ever yelled was because of me. He would complain to my sister and my mom and blame them for the way I was. I cried all the time, feeling shameful and like I didn’t belong here. I was depressed and suicidal.

Recently, after my diagnoses, he has been much lighter on me. He rarely yells and tries to understand what I’m going through, and I appreciate that so much. I never would have imagined this change. There are a few days where his mood easily swings, and I sense that I got the mood disorder from him. I know that we are similar in our sudden mood changes and bad temper. Though he wouldn't ever get a mental diagnosis just because of our culture and it was odd enough for me to get one. My dad rarely yells at me undeservingly, but he still expects me to work hard and keep putting in my best efforts, and I am all-willing to do so.

The yelling continued until the start of grade nine. On top of all this, my best friend since grade three, who I’ll call “Chariton”, well things blew up, and we stopped being friends. A few years doesn't sound like that much, but I truly felt like she was my sister and I could trust her. But I have to admit that I was mean, bossy, selfish, and rude to my best friend for no reason at all. I was practically a bully. She was a wonderful friend, always willing to make me happy even if she wasn't. We understood each other like no one else. I don’t understood why I was a terrible friend to her, and I’ll never have a justification.

Midway through grade six, she couldn’t take it anymore. At the time, I didn’t understand how bad of a friend I was. I begged and begged for us to remain close, but she no longer wanted that. The rest of the school year wasn't actually too bad; I coped with the situation and tried to numb the feelings of sadness by hanging out with the few other friends I had. Then, things changed.

In grade seven, Chariton and I got in contact again and became friends but not as close as we had been. I changed a lot. I wasn’t as mean and uncaring as I had been before, but I was still extremely sensitive. A lot was going on at the time, and we were both best friends with another girl, who I’ll call “Farina”. Farina and Chariton became very close, leaving me isolated. Then, Chariton completely turned on me, telling people how bad of a friend I was, including to Farina. Many people turned on me. I hadn't expected this to happen. I thought Chariton and I were friends now, but to see this kind and innocent girl become so judging and unthoughtful was a complete shock.
All three of us were in the same homeroom. I now had no friends in homeroom, and they would all talk loudly and laugh while I sat alone without a single person approaching me. At the time, I despised going to homeroom. I had no one to talk to and felt so lonely. I remember on field day, we did several activities with our homeroom, so I was with Farina and Chariton. We were waiting in line outside for the next activity, and they made some kind of joke. I made a small remark, trying to joke with them too. Both of them immediately stopped laughing and stared at me, then they turned around and talked privately. I remember looking down at the ground, and my smile just faded. I was trying to understand why they disliked me so much; I hadn't given them a reason to.

When the field day activities ended, we went to our homeroom and stayed there until dismissal. I followed them around the classroom and tried to fit in. I tried to talk to them and make them laugh. I tried to be a part of their group. I tried way too hard. They ignored me, they wouldn't even look at me.

There were several similar instances, and I had never realized how wrong it was, the way they were treating me like I didn’t belong here. I shouldn’t have tried so hard when they were purposely excluding me and bullying me, but then again, they shouldn't have been making me feel this way. I was more confused than I was offended. I had never experienced any sort of bullying, and this wasn't like the movies. These girls weren't pretending. This was actually happening to me. I was as sad as anyone would be, and I kept trying to understand them. I don't know if it was because of the way I treated Chariton and she was trying to get back at me, but I couldn't see any sort of explanation around it.

Chariton and I lived down the street from each other, so we rode on the same bus. I didn't have any friends on our bus, but she had quite a few. I sat alone, quietly at the front of the bus. All I could ever hear was Chariton and her friends speaking loudly and laughing while I sat alone silently. This was damaging. I hated everything at that point. I felt like the world was turning on me, like of course I'm the one left out. I thought it was karma for the way I treated Chariton in the past, but she was never the vengeful type.

In grade seven, I had one very close friend, almost as close a friend as Chariton had once been, and her name was Madge. She was my best friend until April when we got into a fight. I changed, but I was still overly sensitive and demanding. It was my fault. Everyone knew we weren't friends anymore, including Chariton, and people would ask what happened, but we never responded to them. To this day, I have to admit that Madge is one of the kindest people I know.

Madge and I were also on the same bus. One day, I heard a guy say something rude to Madge, so I asked from across the bus, "Madge! Are you okay?" My voice didn't stand out because everyone on the bus was really loud, but she heard me and nodded. As I turned back in my seat, I saw Chariton staring at me from the opposite side of the bus but in the same row as me. I think she was surprised that I spoke to her; she must have thought we hated each other. Chariton stared at me, and I looked over, "What?" She didn't say anything; she just looked disappointed and as if I should feel shameful.

The summer before grade eight began, I was in China with my family. I landed on Chariton's Instagram one night and saw she posted all of these "Dear...” There were things like "Dear person I hate... Dear person I love... etc.", and the caption had all of the responses. She wrote about me in the person I hate and ex-best friend parts.

Everything she said was false, but I already knew she thought these things about me. They were something along the lines of 'I regret every moment we've ever had, you know who you are, stop trying to steal all of my friends just cause your jealous." There was more, but those lines stood out to me. That night, I cried and cried. I tried to enjoy the rest of my trip, but this was constantly on my mind. I didn't understand why she hated me so much. In grade eight after a few weeks of school, I went to the counselor and spoke to her about it. I couldn't let it go. I needed to know why Chariton hated me and why it had been like that for so long. I had been feeling this overbearing pain that seemed to come back every time I was on the bus or in homeroom with Chariton, again in grade eight. We sat in the counselor's office, and I explained everything I felt. I said it to her face and began crying. She started crying too. We both apologised and got over it. The rest of the school year went smoothly until April of grade eight.

In grade eight, we were in the same homeroom with one of our mutual friends, Alisha. We all talked together and got along fine. But May was the trip to Washington, D.C. I really only had two best friends in grade eight: Alisha and another girl who wasn't going on the D.C. trip. Alisha was going and had told me she promised to room with Chariton and Farina a few months back. I wasn't a great friend, and I asked her to room with me instead, knowing what she had told me about her previous arrangements. But I didn't have anyone to room with. I knew I would be left out. Again. Alisha asked Chariton if she could room with me, but she never responded. Alisha, Chariton, and Farina ended up rooming together. I was so hurt that Chariton got what or "who" she wanted once again. She had Farina and Alisha, two people I had been extremely close with. One day, I couldn't put up with it anymore. I didn't want to force Alisha to choose, so I chose. I stopped talking to her. I don't know if it was the right thing to do. Either way, I was hurt. I begged my parents to not go on the trip. My sister called me crazy, but I knew it was best thing for me. I would have been much more hurt if I roomed with a person I didn't know well. I would have been uncomfortable, so I don't regret it.

Grade nine was the best year for me. Going into high school, I made many new friends and felt a lot more connected to people. I finally felt like I belonged. The only thing that kept me on the weaker end was having social anxiety. I was often nervous to go out in public or walk in the cafeteria alone. I was afraid of speaking in front of people and thought repetitively if I had to present something. Even walking down the hallways, I constantly asked my friends to check if my backpack pockets were all zipped. I had all sorts of repetitive behaviours that made it difficult to get through the day. With treatment, I got much better at managing my anxiety and stress. Being around positive people and focusing on the things that mattered most to me really helped block out anyone else's negative opinions as well.

My middle school years weren't the best; I regret so many things I've said and done. Yet in a way, I am so grateful for what I’ve gotten out of it. I am so much stronger and wiser. I have learned many lessons about friendship, trust, and reliance. This isn't a childish story. This is the truth. These events changed my life. They made me the much happier person I am today as cheesy as it sounds. Things like this that I experienced at such a young age, shaped the person I am today. At the time, I was suicidal. I had no dependence, no care for anything. I felt so isolated from the people at my school. I just wanted to understand. I wanted an explanation for their cruel treatment towards me.

I no longer speak to Chariton and Farina. I can't hold a grudge for three years. These stories and the way they made me feel are things I will never forget. But I realised that I can't spend my life feeling hateful towards someone. I know I don't have to love these people, but I also don't have to hate them. I remain optimistic with my friends and family and allow the rest to come as it might. I would never ask for this all to happen again, but it has taught me so much. It’s taught me how to stay strong, that trust is a key factor, to be honest and make people feel loved and they belong.

Having a mental illness does not always come with a reason, or a bad life, or a bad situation one is in; it comes from the brain’s natural and uncontrollable responses. Even though there isn’t anything to be upset about at this point in my life, there are still days when I wake up sad and numb, not wanting to do anything. But I am no longer waking up everyday with a weight on my shoulders telling me that everyone hates me. I am surrounded by caring, funny, and genuine friends. I try to have a positive outlook on life by taking each inch of happiness in my day and spreading it to others. I know what it’s like to be lonely and isolated from people. I know what it’s like to feel as if you don’t belong. I know what it’s like to be left out, believing that nobody fully sees you as a person but instead, a figure. With this, I try to speak to everyone, smile at everyone, and make them feel like they matter. I try to spark conversation with people that I’ve never met and get to know them. Over time, I’ve learned that the people we glance over every day are true individuals that I want to understand. Every human is unique and has something to learn from someone else, and that’s a goal of mine – to constantly be learning about others.