For as long as I can remember I've realized that I was different from all of my friends, after all, how many 11 year olds arranged everything they owned alphabetically and would become hysterical if something was out of place? I never did anything about it or had anyone comment on my mental state until December of 2006, when I began to get severe anxiety attacks that would leave me crying in the fetal position on the ground thinking, and often wishing, I was going to die. As the months went by they became more frequent, sometimes as many as 5 severe attacks per day, set off by the most insignificant things like turning on a computer or walking down an empty hallway. The depression soon followed, it became a daily battle to get out of bed, to see my friends, many of whom I quickly lost. My "quirks" became worse, a spelling mistake would consume my thoughts leaving me unable to concentrate on school, asymmetry left me in hysterics, all my time was spent making obsessively detailed lists about the most normal things, for example it would take exactly 7 steps for me to open a door, and if anything in my set up routines was disturbed or put out of order it was as if the world was ending. My relationships with my parents deteriorated and they didn't really know why, and I quit all my extra curricular activities. The first person to tell me that I needed to seek help was in March of 2007 when my English teacher recognized that something was amiss. He, along with the few friends who had hung around, made me talk to a school guidance counselor. She was a huge help to me, prompting me to have my parents make me a doctor's appointment to talk about my problems. On April 4 2007, my 17th birthday, I was officially diagnosed with a generalized anxiety disorder, depression and OCD. To help me deal with symptoms of all 3 disorders I was put on Zoloft. My parents also insisted that I begin CBT or Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I have yet to begin my therapy or see any significant improvements from my symptoms because i have not been on my medication for long enough. Though just by coming forward and talking to a guidance counselor and a doctor, I have seen improvements in my relationships at home and at school. Coming to terms with my illnesses has been the best thing I have ever done in my life and hopefully this is just the beginning of a better, much happier life for my family and I.

-Allie, 17

I've had panic disorder for years. I don't really remember how it started, but it did and that was that. The feeling of a panic attack is indescribable. I would say it felt like death, but I'm alive, so I wouldn't know. I could describe it more, but it's pointless. You wouldn't understand unless you've been there.

Anyway, when you start feeling like you're dying, your first instinct is to prove you're alive. It's bad logic, but I was desperate at the time. So I would cut myself. I would do it on my hands. I could see the blood and feel the pain and know I was still alive. I hated myself for it. One day, during a particularly bad attack, I excused myself from my class and went to see the nurse. From the second I reached her office, I became a wreck. I started shouting and crying and screaming. I needed to hear myself and feel the tears on my face. The nurse immediately took me into the back room and tried to calm me down.

I felt like I was in a dream. Again, it's something I can't describe. I think it's called depersonalization. I started digging into my fingers with my nails. I was so far gone that I didn't care about what anyone would think. The nurse looked horrified. She tried to bandage my finder, but I pushed her away. I remember shouting an apology to her. She tried to soothe me back to my senses, resorting to the maternal reassurance of "Shh- It's OK."

Just then the vice principal walked in with one of the "troubled teens." He threw her into the waiting room and started shouting at her. The whole time she was fingering a tear in the arm of her black sweatshirt. It was early June.

Though I couldn't really hear, I knew what was happening. She was a cutter. Everyone knew. Now the vice principal knew too. He was bringing the girl to the nurse to be checked for scars. If she had any, she would be suspended.

My panic was getting worse. The vice principal turned to leave. I still felt like I was dying. I turned to look back at the girl. Suddenly our eyes met, and time stopped. I cannot begin to list the emotions conveyed by her eyes. It was as if she was crying out to me. I suddenly realized that we were the same, yet we were being treated so differently. Was it because she expressed her pain in aggression and I, in fear? Was it because she wore black and I, white?

Shortly after that incident, I received the help I so desperately needed. I am now panic free. I never saw that girl again. I honestly don't know what happened to her. I've heard her name mentioned a few times since that day. From what I've heard, she wasn't as fortunate as me. That day forced me to reevaluate my view of others. We never really know how a person lives aside from what we see each day. We are much more alike than we are different.

-Anonymous

An Interpretation of the Sub-Conscious

A shattered hole

A burning scar

A stumbling deer

on a frosty night.

A place to creep

Deep in the darkest atmosphere.

If I can hide, I will reside,

in a shining armour, glowing proud.

Invisible to those around,

but blinding inside.

Protection from the wilderness,

the haunts of old and new.

To re-awaken a fearsome pain,

announcing itself so loud.

-Lee-Ann, 20, Surrey

Suffering from severe Anxiety, Depression, Panic Attacks, and mild OCD from the age of 14, I went into therapy and was taking anti-depressants. I wasn't at school for a year and had to return step by step.

To begin with I was seeing Psychiatrists, Psychotherapists and Psychologists. They gave me coping strategies which I put into place to get back into school. It helped alot. When I relapsed, however, I found that it didn't help. I began a course of Hypnotherapy, which I couldn't recommend highly enough.

Feeling depressed was lonely and horrible and nasty. My friends didn't understand. But the anxiety was worse. I couldn't explain to friends why I felt anxious. I just did. The symptoms were awful; the need to use the toilet, fast, shallow breathing, dizziness, sickness, sweating, feeling hot and flustered. But I learnt coping strategies from my therapists and realised that if I didn't face it I would remain in my house forever. The only way to fight it is to take it on. Push yourself. Don't hide and take the easy way out. In the long run you'll be more unhappy.

Now, although I sometimes feel down or anxious, I know how to cope and I know when I am taking too much on. I am happy and feel stronger through my experiences. It's just a case of seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.

Finally, speak up, and don't let stigma or mental illness hold you back!

-Lee-Ann, 20, Surrey

At the age of 10, everything in my life went haywire. I suppose the chaos started well before the age of 10, but that is when it became official, that Molly was a nut and always would be. It was then that I was diagnosed with OCD, an anxiety disorder categorized by obsessions and compulsions, a disorder much easier described than actually lived and which has held a firm grasp on my life for the last 8 years.

Looking back I remember being overcome with paralyzing fears about death at a very young age, but things would only get worse. Eventually my fears began to completely rule my life. The summer before 5th grade, the summer I turned 10, is when things really got bad. I was scared of germs, blood, disease, sick people, and even people with physical disabilities. However mean that sounds, it was something that I couldn't help. I judged people by their outward appearances, avoiding those who I thought might do drugs, might be gay, or who might have a disease. I washed my hands until they bled trying to get rid of the germs. Interactions with unclean objects and places led to contamination, leading to my bedroom, and all of it's contents, becoming off limits as going inside might lead to disease. I lost friends as being around them might cause me to get sick, and what other 10 year old is going to understand and tolerate such irrational behavior? With the development of all of these fears, professional help was sought and my mom broke the news to me. I completely fell apart. I had a disorder, I would have to take medication, perhaps for the rest of my life, and there was no magical cure for me. I would have a long road ahead of me.

I started seeing a therapists and trying out medications, and while various aspects improved, I never went back to the person I was before. The medication caused me to gain weight making me self conscious and awkward. I had no friends and was labeled as "weird". Things began to look up around the time of 8th and 9th grade, I started making friends and my fears weren't nearly as bad. If only things could have stayed that way. At the age of 15, after a short period of what seemed like recovery, I fell back into a world of fear, much like the first time around.

This time around I developed extreme social anxiety, leading me to quit gymnastics, my passion which I have still not been able to replace. I was scared of germs and convinced I had a disease. I began washing my hands with bleach, scouting the school during my lunch period for a bathroom clean enough for me to wash my lands. I carried small containers of bleach with my in case I needed to sanitize my hands, soap and hand sanitizers no longer did the trick. I developed scrupulosity, religious obsessions and compulsions. I prayed, read the scriptures, and adhered to a strict religious life. Breaking the rules could lead to disease or death. Going to bed took extensive amounts of time as the bedtime ritual included positioning items, turning on and off lights, looking under and around things, checking doors, and praying. I was petrified of people, both because I was afraid of disease and because I was completely unable to talk to others as I viewed myself as completely inadequate. Seriously, who would want to be friends with me? Eventually, I found an amazing psychologist, unfortunately, I only had two weeks to work with him before heading off to college. But with the intensive treatment I received I was able to improve.

With college came new fears relating to germs and no treatment besides the medication. My social problems became increasingly more severe without a group of people who knew me to rely on. I found myself standing alone, too afraid to approach others, afraid I wasn't good enough. I was afraid to let people in, afraid to mess something up or say something wrong, and in turn was accused of "pushing people away". I still struggle daily with germ fears as well as social anxiety and bits and pieces of scrupulosity. I've tried being social, but end up feeling ill and full of fear, more like a burden on those around me than a potential friend. But while things are still hard, it is so comforting to know that I'm not alone, that there are others out there dealing with the same problems. People who are dealing with OCD who have become great people with great jobs and great relationships. OCD doesn't need to take over your whole life, with the proper help and support it can be overcome. It is a part of my life, but it doesn't need to be my whole life, and I hope someday I can more easily develop friendships and walk around without a mindful of fears. There is hope, and there is help. The battle is tough, but you aren't alone!

-Molly, 18, PA

Bipolar or Depression the Label.

I have ADHD, Aspergers, Asthma, Tremours, Sleep Paralysis and Possible Bipolar as well as depression.

I have lived with my life for 15 years this July.

As a child I was very high & low. I never had a stable mood.

Lately I have been depressed and High and it's unontrolable.

I went to the doctor with the problem and he said it sounds like depression.

They gave me zoloft and sent me home. After taking half a tablet I laughed for over and hour and a half.

My friend was with me the whole time and had no clue what I was laughing at.

The really scary thing was niether did I.

When we returned to the doctor the following week they changed me straight away to Lovan.

I felt nothing for a couple of days then it started to make me hyper.

They now discuss the posibility of me being bipolar.

He made a referal to a specialist.

I have decided not to intervene and leave the problem rest.

It's part of me.

It always will be.

Rachael.

-Rachael, 15, Queensland

I am currently 15 and will be 16 this September. I often am very happy then I can turn very upset in a matter of seconds. I've had depression since I was only 5. My dad often upset me without having him there. My first grade teacher noticed that I was never able to work and talked to my mom. I was sent to a counselor at only 6. As I became older I was faced with more difficult issues with friends and family. I tried to talk about it to friends and family. It didn't work. I ended up cutting my wrist to relieve the mental and emotional pain. Then once I did it more and more the cuts got deeper and deeper. Finally in eighth grade a school counselor found out. So I had to stop because a lot of people in my school began to find out. So i turned to drinking rubbing alcohol so no one could see what I was doing to myself. I often found myself crying myself to sleep on a nightly basis. I had a lot of thoughts about killing myself. I knew it was getting to the point to where I needed to stop or I would kill myself. I told my two best friends who then told their parents. They helped me through it. But then eventually everything just began to build up inside me and I went back to my old ways. Then this year, when I went in to ninth grade I met a senior and I talked to her a lot about what I was doing. She helped me though everything I was going through with God. I became very involved with my high school band and friends. Lucky me, I met this girl who helped me through everything and I still am struggling but with her support and my other friends and family I've gotten a lot better! I just want every one to know who's going through rough times, that suicide isn't the answer and neither is hurting yourself. When you make those kind of decisions it doesn't only effect you, it effects every one who cares about you! Talking about your problem helps a lot and God loves every one and will help everyone!

-Jordyn, 15, Ohio

It's hard stepping out about something like having an eating disorder.

Especially being that I'm a guy. When I was younger I was injured and couldn't be active for a whole year I was about age 13 and I was 200+lbs and I was happy how I was. But it was because I never realized how fat I was. My brother was also larger at the time and remains large now. He was sent to the doctor because of his weight and I went with him just to be there. The doctor basically called him fat and said that he needed to lose weight or suffer from multiple diseases such as heart disease, obesity, diabetes..etc.

I looked to my mom and the doctor and asked..well I'm not really that fat am I, at the time I had no comprehension but now I realize how large I was while looking back at pictures. I went home and was determined to change myself. I went on weightwatchers and lost quite a bit of weight. I got down in the 170s or so and then the 150s..it was coming off like crazy. At the time I was a freshman I began to get into sports. When I was real young I was very active and was very athletic but not so much after the injury occured, so I picked sports back up again. I couldn't run an 8 minute mile to get on the basketball team so I began a manager and got made fun of. I fought back with remarks of joining the cross country team and the track team. They all laughed and said it wasn't possible. A select few people believed in me. I realized that there was relation in the fact that I could stop eating and lose weight and become faster. I became quite fast and by sophomore year was the #1 miler and #1 cross country runner. To the day of my graduation I remained the #1 in both sports. During my Junior year however my Anorexia became very severe. People around me such as my running coach began to worry about my eating habits but I was always good and still am good about covering it up. This past season I dropped down to the 130s then I dropped into the 120s and I am currently down to 118..my lowest came during swimming season at 115. I'm a runner year round and was also on the swim team as a diver. Two of the girl divers took notice of my "thin frame."

I disregarded their talking about it behind my back. I knew they were but didn't say anything. I started getting really sick and still have a weak immune system because of my small state. I am always cold, I have hypoglycemia, I suffer from OCD, Depression, and I have had three seizures in the past year. I went to my diving friends and told them that I did in fact have a problem but they promised not to tell anyone. I also told my running coach that I've got eating habit problems. I never admitted to anyone that I was Anorexic besides the diving friends but they swore to never tell anyone. It is really hard stil now that I have just graduated high school to tell anyone and I remain quiet about it. It comes and goes in severity but it often hits strong and as of recently has became a big problem again. And I know it will get worse as I go off to college to run and won't be watched for what I'm eating...I've also started to eat 1 "meal"  and a bowl of cream of wheat a day.  For a while during swimming season I was down to 1 bowl of cream of wheat a day...and I was fighting myself to eat that. I was at about 600 or so calories a day. I often beat myself up over eating anything and always feel guilty after eating. I've only ever talked to my girlfriend and her best friend who was mia and was a cutter. I want to be better but I don't want to gain weight which I know they will make me do if I actually come out on a grand scale but I know I need to. It is really hard day to day but I know with slow steps I can make it. That is the story of my Ana, an ongoing battle with myself and food.

-Anonymous, IN