I find such madness in the fact that before I was around 11 I had such high goals in life. They were all stripped away by my mental illness and by the choices I made. I ran away a lot from the age of 13 to 17. I was highly suicidal and the 1st time I was arrested was when I was 12. They threw me on so many medications and I became this “thing”. I lashed out a lot and I was so angry. I couldn’t answer the questions. “Why me, why am I not normal like every one else?” “What’s wrong with me?” no one had the answers they just gave me more medication.

I’m 22 now and I still don’t know. Up until very recently I told no one the things I’ve done. I’m so ashamed of the person I became. What’s the point of existence if what everyone is trying to do is to lock you away from society? I have been in many mental hospitals and residential treatment centers. Those places never helped, as I was surround by people just as crazy as me or probably crazier. The staff there was college students and most people there are never prepared for anything that happens. They honestly made me want to kill myself more.

My story is quite simple. I was a young girl with the whole world at her fingertips. I could have done anything; I could have been anything I wanted, but none of that mattered I just wanted out.

My story isn’t over now. I fight my depression, anxiety, PTSD, bipolar, RAD, and split personality disorder every day. I am no longer on medication. The day I turned 18 I stopped taking them. They didn’t help. Medication is everyone’s way of dealing with children like us. “Drug the kids up to calm them down.” The worst thing about it was they never took any meds away till I was 16. They just kept adding on. 2000mg of Depakote a day? For a child? Are you crazy?

I’m a survivor of people trying to play god, people trying to fix the unfixable. It doesn’t work. We can’t be cured. You just learn to deal with it. What I have will never really go away. Some days are better than others. I push threw, for my beautiful daughter and for my close friends. I’m done missing out on the beauty of life. I will not be locked away again to look at the same walls day after day, which cause insanity. I’m doing ok now and I’m so happy I didn’t die, because I would have missed out on the rest of my life.

Michelle Jacques