Before we get to my face reveal, there are some things I need to get off my chest. If you came here just to see what I look like, hold on a minute. I have really, really important things to say.

  We live in a society that mainly revolves around appearance. I don't show myself for this. I don't want others to judge me and my stories based on what I look like. If you decide to unfollow me just for what I look like, then what argument is that? I'm shy, prefer to keep to myself, an introvert, and self conscious of myself. However, there's a main reason why I don't like to show myself. I've only told this story to three of my good friends.

  I don't drag others into my messes because I don't want them to be involved with my problems. I keep things in my own little bubble. However, before I transferred schools, I was one of the smartest kids there.

  People kept on telling that I was really smart, and I believed it. But, that changed when one of the mean kids told me that. They were the type that were able to turn any complement into an insult. I didn't believe them and stopped believing that whenever someone told me that.

  A voice was telling me in that back of my mind, "They don't care about you. You're just stupid/dumb." It kept telling me this, and I believed it. Words like "Die," "Ugly," "Not enough," "Worthless," "Trash," "Unloved," kept racing though my mind. "

  I wanted to heal from this with my two best friends there, but my parents dragged me out of that school and put me into another.

  It eventually seeped into my self-image. I told myself that I wasn't beautiful. I started to stop eating and didn't eat very much. I told myself that this is what I needed to do to be beautiful.

  I've been talking to my friends and they keep telling me that I need to eat. I'm not hungry at all. I wear a mask to show that I'm fine. When I'm alone, I take it off, and I cry. I cry from the pain I'm in. I eat almost nothing each day. My stomach hurts. I can't take this much longer anymore.

My standards got higher and higher each day. I thought that if I had high standards, that it would help me. But, I was wrong. Dead wrong. Every time I was almost at the bar, it got higher. Whenever I was almost at the top of the staircase, the ball and chain attached to my ankle got bigger and heavier and the stairs went higher and higher.

I'm the puppet on strings. I try to break free but only try to gain control even more. I try to cut myself free, but I only tangle myself in a web.

  Every time I reach the surface, another wave, larger then the last, pulls me back down. I'm drowning in my emotions. The ball and chain still attached to my ankle.

  Trapped in my own cage.

  Chained by my fears.

  I can't feel anything but pain.

Same mind set ever since the 5th grade. Negative words can't affect you if you let them. Same thing goes to positive words. Each time someone gave me a complement, I would say thanks, but it was in one ear and out the other.

My grades dropped and all I know is pain, tiredness, and hunger all the time. Hunger claws my gut.

  I'm having a hard time. If I can't help myself, then I want to help others.

I told my friends that I wanted to die, and they convinced me to not commit suicide. One of my friends told me that I shouldn't. They tried to commit suicide in front of everyone multiple times and that he didn't want me to die. They pulled me back into the light that time.

*takes off mask and looks down* So, I just wanna say, thanks for sticking by me. *throws mask*