They said it was a miracle I survived.I grew up in a loving Christian home, things were fine. I was in public school until middle school when we switched to a Christian school. Ironically, this is when things went downhill. I gained friends once i was is seventh grade; it took a year. I started acting out in eighth grade. That year was absolute hell. I was depressed, so I did what my best friend did- I cut. From then on, if I managed to go one day without five more scars added to my arms, it was a complete miracle. No one knew. I swore ever few words, I drank, I looked to guys for comfort in the wrong ways & ended up with broken heart after broken heart. My parents found out a month into my freshman year. I had to go to meetings with my pastor, couldn't close my door & I wasn't allowed to hang out with my best friend. I was lost. Then my brothers best friend came into the picture. He made me feel whole and I finally stopped cutting. He broke my heart & it was worse than ever. That was my first suicide attempt. I didn't eat. Then my anxiety kicked in. Every day I had one or more attacks. My parents wouldn't believe me. They got up to the point where I was passing out in the school bathrooms. I didn't tell anyone. My ex got a girlfriend. He cheated with me & then he ended it again. My second suicide attempt. More and more cutting. He still had a girlfriend and we got even more serious. She found out. Third attempt at suicide. This one landed me in the hospital. They said it was a miracle I survived. I had to go to an outpatient program. I was diagnosed with anxiety and chronic depression. My parents wouldn't let me take the prescribed medicine. I was discharged. We went on vacation and things got worse and worse. My parents don't care enough to see how much I'm hurting. I wake up every morning hoping that today will be my last. I need help. I need to feel alive. I need something.