I have suffered depression since I was 6. I never got help for it and when I asked nobody got it for me. When I hit the 8th grade I ran into problems. I was being betrayed by friends, I was abusing alcohol and drugs, and on top of that I had an abusive father and boyfriend (6 months of abuse then we broke up). I attempted 3 times then, overdose didn't work because I didn't take enough, hanging didn't work because the rope snapped, and the cutting didn't work because it wasn't deep enough even -- though it was close. I was a cutter up until 11th grade. My grades were going down; I was always in the middle of fights I still had no help; I felt like I was unwanted and worthless.  I went into the kitchen one night and I took a blade and cut my wrists. My body felt so weak and numb, and everything was fading away. But realizing what I did was trying to fight back, then my little sister found me on the kitchen floor cold and shaking. She woke up my parents and they took me to their room tended the cuts and made me sleep in there. The next morning I went to the hospital and stayed there for a week. I got the help I wanted and the medicine I needed, so now everything is getting better.

Just talking it out, whether it's with a friend, a pet, or even a family member does help a lot. Look for help, because depression isn't always obvious. Also, just think about all of those people who love you, and how your death would hurt them. My friends are the main reason I'm still here today.

-- Cheyenne, 16, South Carolina