Trigger Warning:

- Suicide, Self Harm
- Depression, Bipolar, PTSD, Anxiety
- Eating Disorders
- Physical Illnesses
- Death, Loss, Grief
- Sexual Assault

My name is Rachel Elizabeth Paige. In my 25 years, I have cut myself, starved myself, attempted suicide, suffered from multiple mental illnesses, insulted myself every day (literally), been assaulted, been raped, and lost my best friend to a drug overdose.

I apologize for how sudden all that information came out, but I want you to know exactly what you're getting into before you read my chapter. If any of these topics are triggers that upset you, please DON'T keep reading -- my intention is to use my story to help others, not upset people.

The easiest way to tell my story is chronologically, jumping from topic to topic as they happened in my life. I apologize ahead of time for how incoherent it may seem at times.

Age 12: Background - my brother was training for the olympics, and going to international competition for gymnastics. He discovered he had a spinal defect (spondylolisthesis) and had to receive a lot of medical attention for the next few years. My parents didn't have time for me, and it ended his career immediately. During this time, I met a man named Aaron, five years my senior, who was the first person to really pay attention to me. By this age, I was already being bullied or ignored by every classmate. I was isolated, depressed, and suffering from a heart defect that caused me unnecessary stress. He showed interest and kindness, and we soon became intimately involved (despite how creepy the age difference seemed to others).

Age 13: For the next seven years, Aaron and I would be on and off again. He turned out to be manipulative, trying to mold innocent me into what he wanted: someone who would obey his every word and never leave. His words were, at times, cruel and tormenting. He tore me down and tried to rebuild me how he wanted.

Age 14: I began to cut myself as my depression became overwhelming. I took the blade out of a shaving razer and cut across my wrists (across, not down, because I simply wanted a release from the pain). Aaron was prevalent in my life and, at this point, my parents finally took minor notice of the going-on in my life.

Age 15: I jumped off a bridge into the river in the middle of winter. I could no longer take how badly I was being bullied, and how often I was told "Just kill yourself already" by my tormentors. The school counselor didn't help and just suggested I try harder or change my perspective -- she was more concerned with discussing my dysfunctional relationship instead of my pressing problems. This put me off of counselors in general for a long time. I am alive because my boyfriend at the time, Steven, had been concerned for me and followed me to the river. He jumped in after me and pulled me to safety. I owe my life to him, and we are still friends: to this day, he claims he still loves me just as much now as then. This was the same time that I had a huge fight with Aaron and he pulled a gun on me, refusing to accept that I had left him and started a romance with someone else. I walked up to him and calmly said "I dare you" before walking away -- he was unable to pull the trigger on me. During this same year, my best friend, Danny, had fallen hard into drugs. He pushed away his close friends and eventually lost himself to his addiction: he overdosed, and our friend circle was never the same again. None of us could cope without Danny to hold together, and I lost every friend I had made up until then.

Age 16: My parents sent me away to a private school across the country. I was able to actually develop some friends -- but, as a scholarship student, I was shunned by the 'rich' students. It was hurtful to think that money should create a rift beyond individuals. I isolated myself a lot of the time, and people thought I was stuck up -- I would hear them whispering about me as I rounded corners and bumped into them. Aaron and I had rekindled our romance again and fought a lot. I was often screaming late at night and throwing my phone or furniture in frustration. My roommate, bless her heart, would sit there calmly with me and simply ask "Are you okay? Can I do anything?" despite knowing there was nothing she could do. It would quickly calm me and I would apologize to her for causing a scene. I started to spend most days after class with my roommate.

Age 17: I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder -- however, teachers, classmates and dormmates were less than understanding of my different learning style and needs. They would punish me for not functioning the same way, confiscating my phone and computer because they believed I was simply 'acting out'. It was horrible to become so isolated as the computer was my only real connection to the outside world. My parents agreed with their decision to take away my electronics and I spent a lot of time crying. When I did have my phone, I would literally spend an hour every night talking to my friend, Chris. He helped me get through the most difficult year of my life.

Age 18: Due to excessive stress, dieting and exercise, I lost a dangerous 60 lbs in two months. By graduation, I was a terrifying low 120 lbs (at 5'11"). My family finally began to pay attention to me now that my brother had undergone surgery and come out with only minor complications. Those close to me were concerned, and yet I still called myself fat and starved myself in order to maintain the dangerous weight. I couldn't comprehend past my eating disorder that I was unhealthy and it posed a danger to my health: I wasn't even getting my periods anymore because my body was too weak. When I began university, I finally was able to spend over a year without Aaron harassing me to get back together. At some point, he slept with two of my friends in an attempt to make me jealous -- it only made me hate him more.

Age 19: After my grandmother's sudden death, I moved in with a friend while contemplating what to do with my life. He became my spiritual mentor, and eventually my lover. However, his schizophrenia paired against my bipolar led to verbal abuse and loud fights that we are both to blame about. He eventually kicked me out. I spent the summer living with my parents and working in order to save up money for school the next year.

Age 20: I found an apartment on my own and began attending school. I was introduced by my only local friend into her social circle. They welcomed me with open arms. During this year, I became very ill and doctors were unable to pinpoint what was wrong with me. I gave my spare key to one of my friends, and he would often come check on me to make sure I was getting exercise and eating properly, despite how difficult it was for me to function at the time. My bipolar had become worse and I was suffering hallucinations at the same time as I bordered psychosis. One particularly bad day, I called my friend at his work and asked if he could take me to the ER as my breathing had become very difficult. He decided to leave work early to ensure I got there -- however, when he arrived at my place, he found me unconscious on the floor and I wasn't breathing. He was able to revive me and rush me to the hospital, where tests revealed that I had severe damage in my lung but didn't know why. My lung capacity had been greatly reduced and I needed a steroid in order to breathe properly again.

Age 21: Aaron became a prominent figure in my life around the time that I miscarried my first baby (the father having refused to be a part of the baby's life to begin with). In my grief, I ran back into his arms. Unknowingly to me, it was a ploy of his to get me close. When I was at his home alone with him, he suddenly assaulted me. He beat me, raped me, and then began to strangle me. I could feel myself slipping away, and can still feel his hands on my throat as if it were yesterday. When he thought I was dead, he left for some reason. I took the opportunity to run and never look back. Unfortunately, no one believed me, and said without proof they couldn't follow up. People made me feel as though it was my fault, so I didn't speak of it for a long time.

Age 22: Not long afterwards, I met a seemingly nice navy officer. I took a vacation with his friends/roommates. During a long time of gaming and drinking, I was sitting on the phone with my best friend at the time (Caleb). I still have difficulty speaking of what happened next... long story short, my so-called friends decided to assault me. They took turns raping me while one of them sat on my phone and taunted my best friend about what was happening. The next day, Caleb said it was my fault for what happened and blocked me on facebook and skype and refused to take my calls anymore. I was isolated, shamed into feeling guilty and like I was to blame for what happened, and traumatized. Within a year, I was diagnosed with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).

Age 23: During my next relationship, I became pregnant again. My partner, terrified of dealing with the responsibility, convinced me to have an abortion. Not wanting to 'ruin' his life, as he put it, I agreed reluctantly. However, doing so broke my heart, and  broke the relationship. I've never been able to forgive him, despite we're still friends to this day.

Age 24: My family became much more supportive, I was pickier about my choice in friends and surrounded myself instead with people who related to or understood my mood swings and odd triggers, and respected my different needs.

Age 25: I'm not alone anymore. I published my first poetry manuscript. My roommate hugs me when I cry or have bad manic episodes. My mentor talks me through all my negative emotions. My partner stands by me and encourages my art, believing in my capacity to overcome my illness. My friends stand up for me, and are always ready to rush over to help me when I'm feeling hopeless.

Survival isn't handed to us. We have to fight tooth and nail for it sometimes. But I promise that it's worth it. If nothing else, please remember these important words:

- You are beautiful, inside and out.
- It is NOT your fault.
- You are not alone.
- I'm proud of you for surviving this far in life.

If you ever feel alone, isolated, hopeless, or like no one understands: I am here. I understand, I relate, I genuinely care. I will never leave someone in need feeling alone.

Just remember: survival isn't enough, you also have to learn to live your life through open eyes.