They say the first step to getting help is acepting the fact that you need help. I wasn't ready to accept that, and it almost cost me my life. I suffer from clinical depression, PTSD, and anxiety. Most days I can plaster a smile on my face, laugh with my friends, make a great show of enjoying life; but at the end of the day, alone in my room, I feel a sorrow so deep in my bones that it weighs me down. I feel tired from the act, I feel alone, the thoughts that plague my days threaten to consume me. I think about telling someone, reaching out to a friend.

I know that there are so many people in my life that love me. I know that my friends, my family, anyone I call, would be there for me in a heartbeat, and yet, my brain convinces me that anyone I talk to will think that I just want attention. That it will annoy them. That they won't want to speak to me. That I would be a burden in their life. So I don't. I keep my thoughts to myself. I force myself to continue to fight the battle alone.

I almost lost. And for those people that have never felt the weight of depression; below is something I wrote the night before I tried to end my life. Depression convinces us that we are alone, and then keeps us there.

If I said goodnight to the world and never opened my eyes again, how long would it take for anyone to notice?

If I stopped sending good morning messages and waited on someone to send me one, how long would it take for my phone to ring?

If I stayed silent and suffered through my pain alone, how long until someone would know that something was wrong?

If I never reached out and let all of my conversations lapse into the abyss of waiting on them, how long until all of my friends were a distant memory?

If I stopped responding to their snapchat streaks and facebook messages, how long until my phone would ring?

If I made the decision to say goodbye, to end the soul crushing pain of loneliness that sometimes threatens to consume me, How long until anyone noticed that I was gone?

And if it took that long for them to know, how much could they truly miss me? How much would it really hurt them for me to leave this world behind and finally rest, finally let out that last breath and let the weight of the world fall from my shoulders?

If I could just say goodnight, how long until they found me?

You say that I need to tell my story. That healing requires expression. That without sharing what I've been through, I'll never be able to share the burden of my past. Maybe you're right. Maybe I hide within myself; but nobody has ever given me a reason to share. So here goes nothing. Part one of a five part horror story. Viewer discression advised (sexual assult trigger warning).

At 12, you don't think anything bad will ever happen to you. Monsters only exist in stories and movies. That's what I thought. I was a carefree kid. I loved being around people. I loved having fun and making friends. I was the definition of a social butterfly. My grandparents used to take us on vacations every summer. They have those time share condos where you stay in this gated community with a bunch of uppity people who play golf all day. This was the first year that it was just me going with them, and I was so excited for the quality time I would get to spend with them on the trip.

We checked into the condo at around three and my grandparents wanted to spend some time at the club's bar socializing with the other adults, so I went to the designated kids area; it was kind of a mini club for the members under 18. It had a juice bar and arcade games and board game tables and a pool table. A group of kids that looked a little older than me were all hanging out at the pool table, so I walked over and introduced myself. I joined a game and soon enough I was laughing with the others there.

My grandparents came in at about 5 and asked if I was ready to go back to our condo. I was having so much fun that I told them I would head back later. We continued playing and soon enough it was getting dark outside. I decided to say goodbye and head back to my temporary home.

I'm from West Texas, home of flat land and cotton fields. Virginia in comparrison is so green and beautiful. The path split off further down the road. You could continue following the street and probably get there faster, or there was a little path that crossed a creek and went through the trees. I was a child and the little path was more whimsicle, so I turned to enter the trees.

I didn't hear anyone following me. I didn't know they were behind me. I felt hands grab me. I screamed. They laughed. Something covered my eyes. A tie or something, I never found out. My shirt was pulled up, not off, just over my breast. I fought as hard as I could, but that just made them laugh louder. My shorts were yanked down, passed my hips. I screamed again and something was stuffed in my mouth. Tears streamed down my face. My arms were pinned over my head, someone was sitting on my legs. I couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't fight.

It hurt, a lot. I think there were three of them. Their laugh sounded familiar. Like the guys I was just playing pool with. They took turns. One after another. Having a great time. I felt like they had done this before. I always thought of myself as the hero in the book. The girl that would keep fighting if something like that ever happened, but I'm not. I gave up. I stopped fighting and just let the tears stream down my face into the dirt below me. I think I passed out at some point, or my brain blacked out so I wouldn't remember anymore. They shoved my face into the dirt. Took the blindfold off and whatever was in my mouth, and they were gone.

I sat there alone for a while. Shivering in the dark. Not completely sure what had just happened. It could have been minutes, or hours, but I eventually snapped out of it enough to stand. It hurt to move, but I continued. I pulled my shirt down, and my shorts up. I turned and walked, slowly, to the condo. My grandparents barely glanced up from Wheel of Fortune when I walked in. I went straight to the shower and scrubbed every inch of my body as hard as I could. I couldn't get the feeling of their hands off of me.

I stayed in the condo, reading and watching TV, for the rest of the trip.

That laugh still echoes in my dreams.

You swept me away with pretty words and promises of cherishing me forever. You were the first person to make me feel beautiful, like I was the only person in the room. For four days I was on cloud nine; I loved every minute with you and could imagine myself spending forever with you. But you lied, and lies never stay hidden for long. You broke my trust so early, and I tried to move passed it. I really did, but it was too big for me to forget.

Every time I thought I could move forward, something else popped up. The perscription abuse and the alcohol problem, and yeah you fixed it for a time. But the minute we fought, you went right back to it. Pretty words and sex don't build a lasting relationship. My insecurities, my problems with your behavior, just caused fights.

You were so deep in your own mind, in your own problems, you couldn't possibly listen to mine too. You say that we should work together to get better, but I can't do that. You said you loved me after a week. I said it back because I wanted to make you happy. You wanted to make me your wife, but you still act like a child.

I ignored red flag after red flag because I was so wrapped up in the way you made me feel. I let you go 120mph on a motorcylce. I let my heart rule my actions for the first time in my life, and I only regret how it ended. How much I hurt you. You don't love me. You love the fun we had together, you love the emotional support I gave you, but it came at the cost of my mental health. I don't always know how to say no, especially not to people that I care about. You'll find someone to truly love. You'll find someone who will want to spend their life with you, but first you need to learn how to live with and love yourself.

I wish nothing but the best for you and your life. Three weeks is all it took for you to remind me to love myself. I hope you can continue to be sober and become the amazing man that I know you can be.

You say, "If you put a steak in front of a dog, can you blame the dog for taking it?"

I say, "If I tell the dog no, to leave it, a dog that understands boundaries will walk away. Do you have less self-control than my dog?"

You sit in silence. All this progress and are you really telling me that you are no more than an animal with no discipline? Are you really willing to compare yourself to a wild animal with no sense of self?

We should be teaching our sons respect, not telling our daughters that the world can never change.

"Boys will be boys." Well, if you haven't taught your boy not to touch my daughter, he will learn from me. And you haven't taught your daughter that boys aren't toys, she will also learn from me. Children are capable of learning boundaries. We teach them right from wrong all the time. We teach them not to cross the street without looking. Not to go with strangers. Not to pull the dog's tail. We can teach them consent.

It's simple: No means stop. No means stop. NO MEANS STOP.

No means stop teasing him. No means stop chasing her. No means stop what you are doing and change your actions.

A naked girl does not mean you have consent. The absence of a "No" does not mean you have consent. Consent is given before an action.

Rain hits the window slowly rolling down the glass, leaving streaks for another drop to follow. Clowds muffle the sun that fights to break through. Thunder rolls in the distance. A beautiful Texas thunderstorm rolling through. I look to the field outside the window. The rows of cotton that remind me of your soft shirts under my chin. The nurishing soil reminding me of your eyes, your beautiful brown eyes that reflected my love back to me. The rain slows my mind. Makes me take a moment to remember you and the time we had that was cut so short. I step outside; sit on the porch, a cup of coffee in my hands and the memories flooding my mind. A wooden swing, you pushing me so high I feel like I can fly. A pool party in the summer, you making waves for me to swim through. Mom standing on the porch with a smile as you dance with me in the rain. Yes. I'll take this moment. A silent world only broken by the rythmic tapping and the rolls of thunder. My tears mix with the drops rolling over my face. I miss you.

The voices in my mind scream that I will never be enough.

They are wrong.

The voices in my mind tell me that I will never measure up.

They are wrong.

The world tells me I'm too this, too that, not this. That I don't belong.

Who asked you?

I didn't.

I am more than enough. I am here. I count for something.

My life. The things I've been through. Have made me stronger, kinder, better.

I am loved. I am Strong. I am Me.

And Me is all I will ever need to be.

@CDrown

I watch and admire as you roll by, making sure everyone around you gets a quick “HI”

I watch and admire as you make quick jokes and diffuse tense situations

I watch and admire as you open your heart to people and love with your whole being

I watch and admire as you work with integrity and ethic that most people dream

I watch and admire as you create art with your photos and now your words

I watch and admire as you live with no regard for the boundaries that hold you back

I watch and admire as you see those frustrated with your disability and you treat them with a kindness they don’t deserve

I watch and admire as you embrace yourself with confidence that I can only dream of

I just wish that I could get you to see that a burden you will never be

I watch and admire you

Fairy tales make everything easier. To pretend that villians only exist within the lyrical tales.

Once upon a time, there was a girl. A girl who loved traveling and adventure. A girl who was beyond excited to finally go on a trip with just her grandparents.

But on this trip, two evil boys lurked in the darkness. Dressed just like all the other boys and girls in the arcade, they made friends with the girl. They played with her all night, and kept her company on her grand adventure. But when the sun started to set low, and the girl needed to get back to her grandparents for supper, the boys followed her. Along the path, over the bridge, and through the woods they went; the girl never knowing of the boy's presence behind her.

When the woods fully conceled the group, the boys pounced! Shoving the girl to the ground and ripping at her clothes. The girl was confused and scared. She screamed and shoved and fought with all her might, but they were too strong. She couldn't win. So she closed her eyes and pictured herself anywhere but there.

The boys, satisified, left her there. Alone. Shaking. Broken. They laughed as they left. They laughed at her feeble fight, at her sobbing, at her brokenness. They laughed, knowing, that their mark would forever be on the girl.

The girl sat still until long after the sun set. Embracing the darkness, like a friend that could hide her from the world. The moon shone just bright enough to light the path home. The adventure was stolen, her hero hadn't come. The girl hid herself, sneaking into her room and showering, ignoring her grandparent's pleas for her to come out. They could never know, for the evil boys had stolen her happiness, but she couldn't let them steal their's too.

Darkness, and silence, and fairy tales became the girl's friends. Until one day, she decided to be her own hero. To stop waiting for a knight dressed in white. She donned her own armor made of the darkness that had always protected her, and saved herself.

To be an adult. God. So much responsibility thrown at you so quickly. Suddenly the world has decided that you are your own person. No longer under your guardian's rule; responsible for your own actions, whatever form that may take.

Life is a journey though, not about the destination. It's not a road either, it's an open field. You forge your own path, yeah, at times it might be easier to follow someone else's footprints, but they will never truly fit you.

So my advice to you, enjoy the journey. If you see something shiny, turn towards it. Love your life. Make choices that you can look back on and laugh about. Get arrested, go to a protest, stop on the side of the road for that picture that looks perfect, date the guy that makes sure you never stop laughing, LIVE.

Eighteen is just a number, Eighty is just a number. You are you. Nothing less, nothing more, so be you. And enjoy every moment of it.

...

Nothing

...

Still nothing

Your silence screams. I begged for it, and now its deafening. How was I supposed to know that this would be the time you heard me? How was I to know that your silence would be a thousand times louder than the words that used to fill the air?

...

Please

...

Just say something. Anything.