Dear you,

I grew up in a town that was "just the right size", as my mom says, one where you knew most kids in the grades above and below you but you didn't know everyone in town. I had my own room, I grew up with married parents, a sister, I played soccer, and did martial arts. Sure, my family fought, but no more or no less that the average family. This is all relevant because most people would have never guessed the thoughts that consumed my mind.

In high school, I wasn't the most liked. Actually, I don't think anyone other than my friends really enjoyed being around me. I was weird, emotional, and uptight - a combination that ultimately leads you to having a limited number of friends. I wouldn't say I was really bullied either, other then people telling me to "go back to Africa" because I was from Brasil or occasionally calling me a cry-baby, I never really had a problem with being bullied, I always thought of it as kids wing kids. I just simply wasn't liked. When I relealized that I wasn't very liked is when I began to feel like a waste of space.

During the day, I was always “happy” and laughing when I wasn't emotionally hurt about something that someone had said or done. But as soon as I put my head on the pillow I became consumed with thoughts of not wanting to live. I remember actually listing out the pros and cons of living.

Pros: I won't hurt my family.

Cons: an infinite list about not being adequate, not being pretty, not being missed, not feeling loved, and so on.

No one really knew. I didn't tell my parents because I didn't want to worry them, I didn't tell my sister or my friends because I was always "dramatic" so I didn't think anyone would really care. I began to talk to teachers about the sadness that consumed me. Though, I never mentioned the suicidal thoughts. I was depressed at the time and had no idea. I remember telling myself I was a coward because I couldn't force myself to take an entire bottle of pills.

It wasn't until college that I decided to speak to someone about the anxiousness and sadness that I had. I told my doctor that I could not stand myself anymore. My doctor quickly brushed it aside and said that the college transition did that to people. But I knew wanting to die wasn’t normal. A year later, I went back to the same doctors office and had a panic attack while the doctors was asking me basic questions. At that moment I realized that not telling anyone about my thoughts was only making them worse. She recomended I see a psychiatrist, I gladly took the referal. Along with the precribed medications (which I have entirely stopped taking because I didn't enjoy who while on them) and I attend counsulling sessions. Everything was really annoying at first. I thought all of it was stupid.

My biggest mistake was not telling my friends or family. Coming from an immigrant family a lot is expected of me not in a harmful way but I'm expected to do things for my parents that many do not have to do. I'm sure my parents would have been more understanding as to why I wasn't getting certain things done. And they would have helped me through a difficult time, but I never wanted to worry either of them. At the time I thought to myself that they had so much more important things to worry about then me. Now I realized that my well-being along with my sisters is the single most important thing in their life.

Now I look back and am really happy I didn't have the courage to take that whole bottle of pills, because life is surely worth living. I'm not going to tell you that my life is sunshine and rainbows, because it's not. Things aren't easy. Sometimes I still question why God choose me to live instead of my friend who commit suicide last year. I wonder if God really only gives us what we can handle. Some days I still want to disappear. But now I think of it more as I need a few days to regain control rather then not wanting to ever wake up again. People will never understand you, because people only understand things from their level of preception. It's not that they don't care. Don't expect too much because that can spiral you into difficult situations. But know your worth. Always try your best and always try again, because at least you know you did the best you could. But also know that your best will most likely not always be enough. Never let anyone tell you that what you are feeling is normal. If their conclusion makes you uneasy seek a different opinion. Know that your not perfect, and you never will be. But also know that you are the most perfect you, and you're the only one the exists... there is no replacement for you. You have a purpose. It may not seem like it now, but I promise you if you just hang on for a little more you'll find your purpose and all of it will be completely worth. You are not alone.

If you or anyone you know is struggling with mental health or contemplating suicide, please call the suicide hotline 1-800-273-8255.