"You know why you don't have friends? You know why you didn't get into any high school?! It's because you're so spaced out! Everyone thinks you're dumb as a door nail because you forget everything people tell you! Remember in Elementary school how your teachers would tell me how angry they were with you?! Goddamnit, Katherine! People think you are retarded! You don't care about shit! I ask you where something is and you say 'Uhh... I dunno.' God, Katherine, why can't you be like the other kids in your class who don’t lose their minds? My friends tell me their children are involved in sports, are in all these clubs! AND they're making straight A's! Straight A's! Why can't you be like that? All you do is sit on the computer all day and mope! 'Uh someone called me a bitch today!' Well that's tough! That is no excuse! You keep this shit up then you will not have a job, no future! You won't go anywhere in your life!"

I can still feel my wet, red, clenched face from all the numerous times this happened. I would huddle into a ball wherever I was, and locate to the nearest corner. I had my hands pressed so hard against my ears that I could hear my pulse loud and clear. I wanted to make sure I couldn't hear the words as I screamed back, "STOP IT! PLEASE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" I always assumed everything was my fault. Having someone bring up all the problems I have at once and then slam them at me causes such an immense amount of internal pain.

So many things about myself have bothered me from day one. Hearing my name “Katherine” used to give me a shameful feeling to the pit of my stomach. I heard my name from someone else’s mouth in a tone that says, “I’m not so sure about this one.” I don’t why people tend to notice me so much, and I don’t know when I began to feel this way, but I do know that when my mother calls my name that something is wrong, and when everyone else is happy, there is always some reason for me to be upset.

When I heard my name called nine years ago, I would become stiff from negative thoughts that plagued my spirit. I knew I would be that girl who was “forever different” and could never end up normal. In Middle school, I was known as “Katherine, the depressed quiet girl” - no one wanted to be in a group with. I was mocked because I was so vulnerable. I never thought I would be the one who got called a whore or a bitch, or to be left alone to cry in the hallway while students walked past laughing. I was taunted and ridiculed by my entire grade. I barely had friends, and I barely even spoke a word. In fact, there was nothing for me to talk about. They liked college football and fought over which team would win the upcoming game. I didn’t have anything to say.

When I was diagnosed with depression, life became nothing but miserable. My classmates went to High school Friday night football games, and threw big parties with the whole grade. I stayed at home Friday nights reading books, contemplating the meaning of life, and discovering new music. At school I had no choice but to sit by myself at lunch, but somehow food was still thrown at me occasionally. My lethargic, depression phase manifested itself in different ways, some being good. For instance, I read more, expanding my knowledge of the world I had yet to know. However, my mother set me up with appointments to a therapist, where I could let out the emotions bottled up inside me with no judgment. But, my depression was definitely a nuisance. I was unmotivated to do any school work, my grades slipped, I found it hard to participate in other student activities, and teachers thought I was some bit of a pest. “Katherine, the poor hopeless girl.”

“Katherine, come see me after class.” One day I heard that from my mean math teacher in eighth grade. She looked at me with concern, but with a look that said “Why are you such an idiot?” That memory forever held me down like an anchor. “I’m worried about your grade, what’s going on?” Last time I checked, I had a 79…. But I did not know why. I did all my homework, I participated in class…. maybe it was the tests that were getting my grade down. Turned out I was right. “You score below an 80 on every test we take.” I didn’t know what to say…. How could I explain myself? I know I’m just not a good test taker. “I guess I just get nervous on tests.” “Well, you gotta figure that problem out.”

The summer after middle school graduation, I decided to join a youth group with local teens from my neighborhood, thanks to the encouragement of family friends who heard about my struggles before. I can easily recall the emotions I had when I went on my first mission trip that summer of 2009. I was fourteen, yet I felt so alive and unbelievably happy. In fact, that week in July that I spent in Texas was the time in my life where I had actually felt the most comfortable of where I was now, and was excited for what will be ahead of me.

I had never sat with a full circle of people before in my life. The closest I had come to being in one was in my classes where our desks would be arranged only in a semi-circle. I guess my teachers had the idea that it would help us stay “engaged enough but not distracted enough to socialize with one another.” However, every day when we had group discussions, I never felt connected to anyone else. Every night of my first week long mission trip, we gathered in circles every night. I finally felt connected. I didn’t find “the grace of God” yet, but I found so much love from so many people. I made so many friends, magically. I ended up growing so close with everyone after that trip. I felt like there was a huge awakening in my life. I knew none of these people could ever let me down. They had my back forever. Boys were even interested in me. They did not even care who I was or where I came from - they just appreciated me because I was there. I was part of the group, and that made me equal to everyone else.

To make it even better, my family enrolled me at Grady High school, the local public school that’s a short walk to and from my house. I was known as “Katherine the new girl” in both my youth group and at my school. Everyone approached me, in positive ways. Everyone wanted to be my friend. I had POSITIVE attention. Life could not have been better. For once, I felt a reason to be “Katherine Avery.” I could be anyone I want.

Freshmen year was way too tough for me to handle. I was “Katherine, the lost and confused girl.” Although life was 100% better than middle school, I still had some downs. I was switched out of my classes twice in a semester, making it hard for me to maintain good grades. Teachers were unreasonable, and I got lost in such a big environment. I didn’t even try to discover what my passions were that year; I was so stressed with the big transition, so I decided to seek refuge in my church. I went to youth group every Sunday, grew close to all the teens and adults there, participated in the yearly musicals, and went on every mission trip I could afford to go on. With encouragement from a sermon in Sunday school, I decided to conquer my fears of school. “You need to figure out what gifts God gave you, and how you need to use them. NOTHING is holding you back.” I felt as if I was being spoken to; as if God wanted me to be there in that exact moment to hear this advice. For once in my life, I found hope. I actually felt that I could go on to be successful in reality.

Taking her advice, sophomore year I joined Chorus and the photography program at my school. However, later in high school I noticed I was starting to have unhealthy obsessions with problems I ran into. I thought them out a lot more, instead of tuning them out as unnecessary. At sixteen, they caused me to develop a panic disorder. I was paranoid my friends talked about me as “Katherine, the anxious freak.” My first boyfriend was everything I wanted. He was my reason to be happy. To look forward to things. He introduced me into his world full of his rich, foreign friends. For six months, it was a battle between feeling on top of the world or scared to the point where I thought this was the end. I was way too worried that the relationship would end, instead of being happy and just living in the moment. I became paranoid with everything. I prayed to God that he didn’t think I was crazy - that he still loved me. Then, one day, he stopped responding to my texts. It was the worst letdown to me in my life; to feel so accepted and close to someone for six months, and then they just leave you. I could not get myself to put effort into work; my grades slipped, and I could not focus on my passions.

With encouragement from my friends, youth group, and therapist, I got right back on track. I knew I had no time to feel sorry for myself. One day, about a year ago, I looked myself in my mirror and said “You need to give it all you got, Katherine. You’re not worthless. You have no time to feel that way. Just follow your dreams and keep going. Don’t listen to people who say otherwise.” The hope in my name arose again.

I decided to put my heart and soul into photography and chorus, as well as in my youth group. I spend about an hour and a half a day working in the darkroom, sometimes after school. Now I’ve entered over twenty of my photographs into competitions and art shows around Atlanta. In chorus I put a lot of effort into developing a healthy sounding soprano voice. I even got the opportunity to sing with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Jodi Benson for a three day Christmas event, as well as with the 125th Coca Cola Anniversary Chorus. Being committed to something you love has such a rewarding feeling. I receive encouragement from my friends and teachers; they congratulated me on my talents and tell me I should continue with this passion for the rest of my life. I can't tell you how thankful I am for that.

Looking back, I see my thoughts of self-pity as immaturity. However, I think in a way it helps you grow. You go in with the bad, and out with the new. I felt so self-conscious in that dark world, but now I feel optimistic and bright because of the knowledge I developed during that time. College has become a tough roller coaster for me, but I am almost confident that I can get through it. After two rough years of depression in college, I moved back to Atlanta, enrolled at Georgia State, and put myself back on the saddle. Now at twenty-two, I know who I am. “I’m Katherine and I’m real.” I’m a real woman who was put on this Earth to explore the world and my passions. If you only stay in one bubble your entire life, you may never defeat those thoughts of self-doubt. You may never figure out what drives your motivation. You may never find people to help you along the way. One needs passion, encouragement, and bravery to survive in this world.