Todayz Teenz

Stress Made Me Cut Myself

2009-06-29T06:22:00.000-07:00

To be honest I’m not sure when it all started, I started to feel really down, then two friends of mine committed suicide, as soon as I got over the death of my first friend and other friend died too. I couldn’t talk to anyone about it, it hurt too much.

A few months later I started to self-harm, after an argument with my parents and my friends all on one day, I couldn’t take it anymore and the next thing I know, I had found a broken ruler and was digging it into my skin, I liked the feeling it gave, it released some of my emotions. The emotions of anger and stress. I managed to hide it for a few months until one day, me and my friends were messing around and she grabbed my arm that had some fresh cuts on it, she saw that I had flinched away, she didn’t say anything but later that night on msn, she told all my other friends and they all asked me about, all at once all the conversations, were asking the same questions “do you self-harm?”, ”why?”, “why did you not tell me?”, I couldn’t answer them so I signed off, and then they all started to text and call, so I told one of my friends and she passed the message on. I felt so scared that night, my secret was out, I wouldn’t be able to do it again on my wrists because they would see. After I told them, they kept a close eye on me, checking my wrists for new cuts. I will never forget the look in their eyes when one day, there was new cuts because in my anger I had cut my wrist, the look of hurt in their eyes made me cry, I couldn’t do it no more.

I managed to stop self-harming for a few months with the help of internet support groups, it was easier to talk to them about it because people on them had self-harmed, and they didn’t judge you. But when my GCSE coursework and mocks started, I started to feel extremely stressed and I started again, I managed to stop after my mocks and coursework was all finished, and now I’m trying to keep going in my recovery. I have my real gcses coming up; hopefully, I won’t get stressed and start again because since, I have been on a stress management course to help me cope with it. For me, self-harming releases stress and my friends simply don't understand it.
However it's a terrible thing to do; and I would urge teenagers never to do it.

- Anonymous

Self Harming

2009-03-26T14:29:00.000-07:00

I started self-harming when I was fourteen. I don’t know what triggered it really; I had read a lot about it in magazines and stuff. There was never any given moment when I thought “Oh, let’s try cutting myself, see if that helps the pain.” It never went like that. I don’t think it ever does – no one chooses to self-harm, it just ‘happens’.
Anyway, I was fourteen and in my third year of school, and by this time I was also in my second International School. I left my first one after my second year because I couldn’t take the bullying and crap that I got from people there. I’ve always been bullied about being overweight, as long as I can remember. I was verbally bullied at school itself, but I was also cyber-bullied, through MSN and MySpace.
The second school was better for the first couple of months. I got on with people, I made friends, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. So you can imagine how I felt when things began to fall apart. I had moved schools at the same time as another boy, who had attended my last school with me. He began spreading rumours about me, and telling people about the stuff that went on at my last school. The boys in particular picked up on this, and enjoyed taking the mick out of me and being downright cruel. The friends I had made in the beginning began to stop talking to me, afraid that they would be targeted as well. I ended up having no one to talk to, and being, once again, alone. I got heavily involved in drama and the school play, and that helped me to ignore what was going on. However, the situation began eating away at me, and I was getting more and more frightened about coming to school each morning. I actually felt physically sick every morning on the train to school.
As I said before, I don’t know what triggered it, it just happened. I’d had a particularly bad day at school, and I found myself absent-mindedly scratching my arm with my nail.

"It provided a comfort I hadn’t felt before, and made me feel in control of what was going on"

. I never used razor blades - it's stupid, but they're too quick and clean. I like it to hurt, that's the only way it goes numb. Every time I cut myself, I felt that I had control over the pain, I could control how much or how little I felt. I ceased to feel any sort of existence, I only felt alive when I self-harmed.
When I returned to that school in year four, the summer holidays seemed to have given everyone the break they needed. Most of the people who had bullied me the previous year had left, and I felt OK. I even managed to stop self-harming. Until I made friends with Leonie. She was in my year, and somehow we connected. We both subconsciously knew that we self-harmed, and that, I think, brought us together. Her cousin had committed suicide in the summer, and she coped with that by self-harming. We shared our thoughts on self-harm and suicide, and this helped us. I still hadn’t 'relapsed', and I felt OK. However, in November that year, I started the slow and painful roll downhill again.
The problem was that I lived about 20km north of the school, and it took me about an hour to get there every morning. The school was relocating to a new site, and this was going to be on the other side of the city, which would have meant another hour’s travelling time for me. Basically in the end we had no choice but to move me to a different school. So guess what, I ended up in another school, ages away from my old one. We moved cities and all.
The thought of having to move schools again

"tormented me"

, and I was extremely reluctant to go. Leonie was a good friend, and I started self-harming again because I was so upset about things. I was frightened about having to start again, having to make new friends. I didn’t want to move because I had actually begun to like the school I was in, and I felt like I had friends. The self-harming got steadily worse – from a few times a week to whenever I wasn’t doing something else. It took different forms as well. Mostly I would cut myself, but I also had the tendency to take 5 or 6 painkillers at once to numb the pain I felt. I still do this, as it’s not outwardly noticeable, and it helps relieve the pain.
At this time, like myself, Leonie was also suffering from depression. She talked about killing herself, and it made me wonder too. Would anyone care if I died? Would the world be a better place? Should I even exist in the first place? These were the kind of questions I asked myself, and Leonie and I glorified the idea, as it were.

I finally faced up to the fact that I was moving schools, and I tried to make my last few months of school the best ones of the two years. And I succeeded, they were good times, and I was happy. I left the school, determined to make a fresh start in my new one. I’m not going to lie, the summer was very hard for me, and I was having sleeping problems because I was so frightened about starting a new school again. I thought I was going to pass out with nerves on my first day, but it was okay. The entire first year wasn’t too bad, and I withheld from self-harming. With the exceptions of a few people, the year went fairly smoothly, and although I sometimes had the urge to self-harm, I didn’t give in. Again, I got heavily involved with the school play and drama, and this distracted me from anything else.
When I started Year 12, I was actually looking forward to going back after the summer. Two good friends of mine had left, so that made the first few weeks hard – it felt very strange without them, especially as I had shared a lot of what I felt with one of them. But I got on with it, and I had other friends to hang around with. Things started to go wrong around October time, when I fell out with a group of friends, because of various reasons. What happened then is still sort of a blur, but to cut a long story short, on the third evening in Berlin, we were all very tired and tempers started flaring, resulting in several insulting remarks and some very hurt individuals. Being the person I am, I didn't want things to escalate so I tried to leave the situation, and I spent the evening with another group of people who I got on with. Returning to the Youth Hostel after an evening with them made me feel ill and scared. We sat down in the bar area, and I was really drawn into myself. I was so preoccupied with the events earlier that evening that I couldn’t talk to anyone else and I simply sat there, not looking or talking to anyone. When the teachers came back, the one I trusted the most - my

“geography teacher - told me that I isolated myself from the rest, and that it was my fault”

, pretty much. I asked whether she would hang out with people who called her a fat bitch, and she made excuses, saying her friends would never have said that to her. Trying to point out that I simply isolated myself when they had bitched at me, she told me she 'didn't believe the twins had called me a fat bitch'. The person I trusted the most. She then went on to say “Well I suggest you find some new friends then when we get back”. My world crumbled on me then. I felt like I had lost everyone I trusted, and that I couldn’t turn to anyone about anything. I felt the most alone I had ever felt, and

"the urge to cut myself"

that had been biting at me for the past few months suddenly overwhelmed me. I couldn’t go back into the room with the people who had bitched at me, it was eleven at night, I was in a strange city with nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I flipped totally over the edge and cut myself for the first time in a year. It felt SO GOOD, such a RELIEF.
The next day was worse, in a way. I wished I could just die. I wrote a letter and I even stood on the metro station platform actually considering throwing myself in front of the train. I was all for doing it. I don't know why I didn't. I was so scared.
Being winter, I was suffering more from depression. I felt alone again when we returned to school, and I continued my self-harming stint. I hadn’t realised anyone actually noticed the change until I was ‘asked’ to discuss my ‘problems’. It took me over three months to come clean to the counsellor about my self-harming, and when I did, I was deemed ‘too screwed up’, and was passed on to a ‘professional’. I hated the shift, I still felt I couldn’t trust anyone, but this last counsellor turned out to be amazing. I managed to stop self-harming in April 2008, and except for a few urges and some minor cutting incidents, I’ve not had any relapses.
She showed me that there are other ways of dealing with depression, and I often find myself writing poetry and songs, because that’s what I enjoy, and it’s something I can channel my depression into. I also have a love for acting, and just being able to do a bit of acting or drama often helps me, because it gives me something else to concentrate on, and I don’t have to be me – I can be someone else.

If you asked me today why I did it, I’d most likely say “I don’t know”. Because I don’t, I can’t pin-point my motives, I can’t say that I wanted to kill myself because of x, y and z. That’s not how it works, it’s never that simple. Obviously, I regret it, and I don’t want to go back to the state I was in, but I’ll never say that I’ll never go back to self-harming, because that’s not a prediction I feel I can make.

Daisy A.
17
The Netherlands

Trust

2009-02-03T11:49:00.001-08:00

Things weren’t exactly going the way I’d planned, my dad had just caught me with alcohol and barely trusted me, the only person I thought I could turn to was my aunty. A few weeks had passed and my life was gradually getting better, and I got pretty close with a friend told him everything. He had this friend, he was gorgeous. So I told my friend that I kind of liked his mate and he hooked us up so now we're seeing each other. Just to see how things go.

But the thing is, I don't think I can trust him, and I know it’s bad because you’re supposed to have trust in a relationship and without it everything will start to crumble. He's a bit of a womaniser and that kind of makes me feel jealous as well, and I definitely know that not good either.

I see him quite a lot, well enough. But I can't help but worry when I’m not with him, as I think he's going to cheat on me and I can't deal with that happening again! I got quite emotional about it talking to my best mate’s boyfriend earlier (who's like a brother to me) he told me that he doesn't want to see me get hurt, and that made me feel more conscious about the whole situation.

When I was out with my boyfriend the other night, he said "I wouldn't trust me if I was you", that was kind of the wrong thing to say as that’s what triggered the whole thing off.

So too all the girls out there, who get worried, jealous or whatever, just think... is the boy worth all the worry? If you do worry about stuff like that, then just sit down and talk to him because then you can say what’s going on in your mind and he can understand what you’re going through as well. And if he doesn't quite understand then maybe things aren't meant to be.

I know for a fact I’m going to talk to my boyfriend because he makes me so happy and I don’t want to jeopardise the relationship we have by being over jealous and worried.

Anonymous

Immortal - Poem

2009-02-03T11:47:00.000-08:00

Everything has gone wrong
And I have no where to belong
You have captivated me
In a place where I wanted to be
Yet you and I cannot be seen
As love nor mercy
Silence as I closed my eyes
Just that one beautiful time
Where I belonged
This entanglement with you
Has left me with no clue what to do
Your vines will surely drain my heart
Cupid’s arrow is instead a poisonous dart
I want you to fix me
But I’m to broken
Can we put aside the words that have been spoken?
Death is benevolent he will clutch me in his embrace
You hold me in your arms
You kiss my face
Do we defy time, do we defy fate?
Is what we had dieing as quickly as it was made?
Death whispers in my ear
Making my choices oh so clear
The stopping of the heart, the gateway to hell ajar
Tick tock goes your time
His realm is waiting you shall soon be mine
Round and round
My heart still pounds…
Death blesses my forehead
And he gives me my choice
I sat poised
With the knife to my skin
Oh how you are such a cruel and divine sin
Tears trickle down my face
I do not want to end my life
With this much haste
Am I to lost to be saved?
You can heal me
You can make it better
Stay with me forever…

22/06/08
Charli
15
Bournemouth

Heartbreak - Poem

2009-02-03T11:45:00.000-08:00

When I See Him With Her,
I Can’t Help But Feel Jealous.
Deep Inside My Heart Is Burning
With All The Pain I Go Through
Every Single Day
When I See Them Together
I Just Have The Urge To Burn Her Down
Evan Though They Make A Perfect Couple.
I Just Wish I Plucked Up The Courage
And Asked Him Out, Before Her
But I Guess I Was A Coward
He Treats Me Like A Princess
He Said He Would Do Anything For Me
He Makes Me Feel In Heaven,
But Deep Down I’m In Hell

I’m In Love With Him
He's In Love With Me
We Both Know It, It’s No Secret.

He’s Soon Leaving.
Going Back To His Home In A Different Country,
While I’m Stuck Here All Alone.

Should I Stop Loving Him, To Ease My Pain.
Or Should I Keep Loving Him
And Live With A Broken Heart, For The Rest Of My Life.
If Only He Knew, How I Felt,
Maybe He Would Open His Eyes, And Stop Playing With My Heart

Love Is Pain [&&] Life Is Cruel,
Guess This Is The Pain
I Have To FaceLove Can Be Wonderful [&&] Life Can Be Amazing
But I Guess My Life Turned Out To Be,
A Life Of Pain [&&] Suffering

Kayleigh Zammit Sare

My Dad Ran Away

2009-02-03T11:44:00.000-08:00

When Lily’s dad left when she was 3, she had no idea that she would ever see him again.

In 1996, 3 days after her birthday, Lily’s dad left without even saying goodbye. At the age of 3, she had no idea what was going on. Only time could tell what would happen…
It was the 28th of January 1996 when my dad left. I was only 3, and my brother, Nick, was 5. Dad didn’t take anything with him, only the clothes he was wearing. He walked out the door and drove off. For all I knew, that could have been the last time I spoke to my dad for the rest of my life, but I was wrong.
After my dad left, I developed an eating disorder, and refused to eat certain foods. By the age of 5 I would only eat bread. I couldn’t eat in front of people since I could remember, but I became seriously underweight and had to be referred to a specialist. At the same time, my brother Nick was in and out of hospital having operations. It was hard to get attention as a child. Mum didn’t have time to worry about my eating, as Nick could have been close to his death bed at every operation he had.
I had two years of counselling to try and help with my eating, and eventually got referred to a cognitive behavioural therapist. They try to help you change the way you think and what you do. And they focus on the here and now, and not what caused the distress in the past.
I only saw her for a few months, because after no improvement my mum had an argument with her as we couldn’t notice a change.
I saw various dieticians after this, but I realised that the only person that could help me, was me.
To my surprise, I did keep seeing my dad. I saw him every other weekend until the age of 9, until he failed a drug test at work. He failed on cocaine, ecstasy and cannabis. As a result, he had a breakdown and broke up with his fiancée. Dad disappeared for a year and a half after this, not even his parents knew where he was.
In 2004, I walked into the home office to find Nick had left his email inbox up on the computer. As I glanced at the screen to shut it down, I noticed my dad had sent him an email. I clicked on it, and found out Nick had been talking to him without anybody knowing. He hadn’t bothered to email me, so why was he emailing Nick?
I told my mum about the emails, and she got in contact with my dad. After a discussion, she decided it would be a good idea for Nick and me to go and stay with dad for the weekend. So in summer 2005, we went to stay with him. When we arrived, we saw where he was living; a shabby attic on a farm! During the visit, I noticed the effect the drugs had on his appearance. Dad looked withered, and older.
In the time he was away, dad had got himself a new girlfriend. Her name was Suzie. I knew she was bad news from the moment I met her, she looked like a heroin addict, with track marks up her arm.
Our first night staying with dad was a disaster. At 2 in the morning, Suzie went missing. She just disappeared. Nobody had any idea where she was. To this day I still haven’t been told what happened. We were driven to our grandparent’s house when she went missing; we had only been at dads for about 6 hours.
After the disastrous visit, I didn’t hear from him for another year. Whether he was sending Nick any emails or not I don’t know, but we were told in 2006 he had another breakdown.
A while later, on fathers day, dad managed to get hold of my email address, and sent me an email. He basically told me that he was sorry for being a bad father, and that he would really like to get to know me. I could feel the anger building up inside of me as I clicked the reply button. I was fed up of being messed around. Either he was in my life, or he wasn’t. I decided I didn’t want him to be in my life. I told him what I thought of him and said I didn’t want to get to know him at all. I got no reply to my email, but then I wasn’t really expecting one.
Then, on my 14th birthday, after getting no reply to my email, he turned up in my hometown. My mum’s ex-boyfriend saw him in town, and told mum.
I was in the town centre shopping with my friends at the time. Mum phoned me to warn me dad was around.
I managed to spend the day with my friends without running into him, but not long after I got home, there was a knock at the back door. Dad was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. It had been so long since I had seen him, and I ran upstairs to get away from him. I didn’t want to see him, I was fine without him. My eating was getting better, although I couldn’t order things for myself, but I knew I could help myself. I refused to talk to dad, although he did try to talk to me. He left soon after. I am now 15 and haven’t spoken to him since that day. I have had the opportunity, but I don’t want to take it. I know I will be ok how I am.
As for my eating, I’ve become more confident over time and I know that if I help myself, I will get through it.
I never thought I would see my dad again after he left, but the world is full of surprises.

Anonymous

How My Life Changed Forever

2009-02-03T11:43:00.000-08:00

My name's Lizzie and I have a disease called Ulcerative Colitis. It means I have ulcers (like mouth ulcers) in my bowel. My disease is chronic (life long) and has no cure. Basically, I get awful pains and then I need to go to the toilet pretty quickly.
It all started in May 2007, when I started to have abdominal pains and had to go very frequently, I could go up to ten times a day, it was always diarrhoea. This went on for about two months before I plucked up the courage to tell my mum and we went to the doctor, I hadn't told anyone before this. We went to the doctor about three times, she kept on insisting it was just a bug and it would pass, but it never did. She finally sent me to see a pediatrition in early September, almost four months since my symptoms had started. I was now incredibly thin, I had hardly any energy to do anything and I had frequent migraines.
My pediatrition referred me to a doctor in Southampton General, as after many tests he couldn't find out what was wrong. I had an ultrasound there, where they said they knew something was up. They then said the thing I was most dreading, an endoscopy. My endoscopy happened on the 6th December, I had to take laxatives the day before and I could only drink water and eat jelly. I was so nervous about it, however, when we got to the hospital all the nurses were all so nice about it, I relaxed until it came to walking down to the surgery area. They put me under anaesthetic and before I knew it, it was over. I left the day after and they wanted me back on the 17th.
On the 17th they diagnosed me with Ulcerative Colitis, it wasn't a fun day. They put me on a course of steroids. For about a month “

I was taking 14 tablets a day”

, my steroids didn't stop until February half term. I thought being thin was bad, but my weight soared from seven and a half to nine stone. My friends had started to notice my weight gain; I couldn't hold it in anymore.

“I was so worried and embarrassed”

but they all took it so well, they taught me to laugh at my disease, it's helped me so much. I am now on five tablets a day, to stop my disease from coming back for as long as possible. I've changed so much over the last year, even though I worry about my disease, I must always know to think positive.

Lizzie
15
Isle of Wight

Sexual Abuse

2009-02-03T11:36:00.000-08:00

People think of me like I'm normal, like none of my friends know the real me because there is so much they don't know. From a young age you can say really my life was messed up! When I was a toddler I was sexually abused by my grandfather several times and this came out when I was about 8 years old. I lost my cousin and my best friend because her mother didn't believe me. All through my childhood until my dad finally left I would watch my mum get beaten up and that wasn't something a 3 year old should remember! When my dad finally moved out my mum met her husband, she thought it was all good until 2 years in when he would constantly pick on me and my brother, my mum would stick up for us best as she could but it would occasinaly end up in a row. When I was 10 he went mad, I was staying at my step-sister's house and my mum phoned her saying could my sister's husband come and get her from town because HE kept phoning her with abuse. When my mum was with me I felt at rest but it wasn't over, He kept ringing and hassling my mum. Eventually my sister's husband went down there and we could hear him shouting from her flat at the other end of the street! He also had a samurai sword and was threating to kill the dogs. In the end we phoned the police and they took him and all the swords. As soon as he was gone my mum went down to the house and locked herself in while she got the dogs, then brought them back to my sisters. We did go back that night, but he went crazy a couple of times and once he did an overdose and when he came out of hospital went and slept in the back garden. It was scary. Luckily they split up and I went to stay at my other sisters for some time before the summer holidays properly started. But it wasn't a fun time, well it was until me and 2 others got sexually assaulted in a paddling pool. My sister lived in a hostel with her 4 kids and a man from across had a paddling pool for his kids. It was fun and I was in everyday till this other man "threw" me in, he never just threw me he grabbed my breasts. The two other kids were a boy and a girl, they had to move out of their hometown because he wouldn't leave them alone. I see him alot now and my brother has been in a fight with him because he walked up to my sister while I was staying with him at the time it happened. Now my mum is trying to cope as best she can with it all and went a bit off the rails and became and alchoholic but she officially stopped because I have really poor attendance at school and she blames herslef. So thats the shortest summary of my life.

Dakota,13

Anxiety

2009-02-03T11:33:00.000-08:00

Anxiety is a major part of my life. I suffer mostly when I'm in situations with people I don't know very well, so starting my job was hard, well it still is, everyday at work I have to talk to customers and alot of the time I panic and get anxious when all someone's asking me is were the milk is, in my head its alot worse than the actual situation.
Meeting new friends is difficult, especially when I meet people my mates know because I panic and start worrying I will make an idiot of myself or people wont like me, then I'll get anxious and want to run away from the situation, even talking on the phone is stressfull at times even if I know the person I'm talking too.
When anxiety hits,

"my chest feels like its tightening up"

and I will start to feel sick and panicy and I can feel my heart beating in my chest.

Since my own experiences I've found loads of groups and phone numbers that help and have advice on eating disorders, Anxiety and Bulimia and GPs can always give you support and help you on your road to recovery.

Anonymous

Bullimia

2009-02-03T11:23:00.000-08:00

When I was about 11 years old, I started binge eating, eating anything and everything. Looking back I don't know why it started but all I remember is that it made me feel so good for a bit. This was always followed by a slump when I'd start feeling low and start eating again to make me feel better.
This carried on for a couple of years, I cant really remember much if I'm honest, I put on loads of weight and became quiet and wasn't really a social person.
It wasn't till I was about 16 when it got worse, my binge eating got worse, my hormones were all over the place, my moods were eratic and I had the attitude that I didn't care about anything, my college work suffered and I would miss days because I just felt that low I couldn't be bothered to go in, I'd make excuses or go out to college as normal then come home once everyone had gone out.
But the hardest thing was no one knew, I didn't tell anyone, my self esteem was so low and my anxiety was so strong I was too scared, I thought people would think I'm making it up for attention, so I kept it all in, but yet it got worse, by the time I'd got to the age of 17 I was making myself sick, I'd binge to make myself feel better, then I'd feel disgusted in myself, I'd hate myself for it, so

"I would make myself sick."

It was a control thing, I would binge to take control of my emotions, but by bingeing I'd be losing even more control, so I would make myself sick. Sometimes I could go days without doing it, other days

"I would make myself sick up to 7 times a day"

, it depended on my mood.
My mood changed so much aswell, one day I'd be on top of the world, other days I'd be ok, then other days I'd be so low and depressed that I wouldn't care about anything, I wouldn't go as far as saying I was suicidal but I had that many emotions I was lost, I couldn't bring myself out of it, my world seemed gray with no hope for me, basically I would feel I was worthless,that I brought nothing good into this world and even with my mom and dad and amazing friends I still felt as if I was alone.
I would drink alot on my own, drink so much I'd get drunk in secret just to forget everything because I couldn't cope
The day I got help was horrible, I woke up and just felt helpless, but I knew if I didn't do it, it would get worse. I knew I was damaging my body and that I was becoming hell to live with.
I cried while telling the nurse, it was such a relief, all this emotion pouring out and all the tears, such a weight of my shoulders that someone else in the world knew.
I am surprised she even understood what I was saying.
I told my mom that night, and it was so much easier then I thought it would ever be, she was more supportive then I could have ever imagined and so amazingly was my dad.
Not that many people know because I'm scared of how they're going to react, I don't really want to be treated differently or people to over react to it.
At the moment I am seeing a counceller to help me with my bullimia, everyday is a struggle, the emotions and my relationship with food will always be a love/hate relationship and I'd love to have one day where I don't feel low, where I don't feel ashamed about what I eat.
I'd love to be able to bring myself out of my low moods instead of struggling and feeling like I am worthless, but as hard as it is, I am determined to get through this.
I know there are proberly loads of teenagers, boys and girls, because bullimia also effects boys, who are going through exactly the same of me or similiar experiences and they are keeping it all hidden, just like I did,

"if I could tell all them people one thing, It's to not to keep silent"

, don't be scared of telling anyone because like me you will be surprised with the amount of support you will get.

Anonymous

Body Image

2009-02-03T11:20:00.000-08:00

I don't think being a teenager is being easy full stop. We have to deal with the stereotypes we are given which i beleive is largly down to the media, we are told we are too young to understand the world, yet we have so many pressures; with school, jobs and the raging hormones we have to deal with.
One big thing we have to deal with is body image. All over the media we are confronted with thin, attractive women, they're in magazines, posters and advertisements.
Seeing these images makes me angry because most of them are airbrushed and when teenagers aspire to be them and try and diet and starve themselves to be thin, they're trying to reach perfection that dont exist.
These images can distort a persons view on what's pretty and what is normal, so when they look in the mirror and can't see that person stare back at them, their self esteem lowers and can lead to a dangerous cycle of dieting, starvation,excesses exercising or purging.

Anonymous

Living With Dyslexia

2009-02-03T11:19:00.000-08:00

I first found out I have dyslexia when I was 5. I got called a lot of horrible names when I went to my primary school because I could not read and write as well as everyone else. Everyone would pick on me and tell me to try and spell long words that they could. I got extra help from the teachers and that has helped me a lot. I am now 13 and am in year 8, going into year 9 at high school. I still now get a little bit of extra help but not as much as I used to. I am now getting better with my reading and spellings, but It just shows how much a little bit of help can really help you. If it was not for the help I got off my teachers and my family I would probably not be getting the good marks in tests that I am today. I think people with dyslexia should tell someone and get the help they deserve because it is not their fault.

Lauren , 13

I Hate Mirrors

2009-02-03T11:17:00.000-08:00

f**k you body
i tried so hard to keep you in shape, maybe not the healthiest way. but i felt in control, and it worked for me. i didn't eat because you liked it that way. but last year when you told me you wanted more food, and you wanted to stay fit in a good way, you blew up on me! i was finally happy with myself, and you had to get f**king huge! i hate you, body. i hate you so much. you make me so upset and feel so ugly. and no matter what i do you won't go away. i don't want to be sick again, because passing out and dying slowly is not the funnest thing, but body, if you don't start making me feel happy i have to find my own way. and that means a drastic measure. body, i know you don't like that option, so work with me here and we can be a team again.

Skin and Bones, Ontario

Sharing The Secret – My Self Harm

2009-02-03T11:15:00.001-08:00

My names kim. I’m just your ordinary 16 year old girl stressing over guys, school, how I look – the usual. But I want to raise people’s awareness for something that goes on everywhere – even though we know no-one wants to talk about it, we have to get it out there. Self harm. Being honest, I too myself have self harmed; I was a self harmer for about 4 years. It’s not easy to talk about it but I feel that nowadays everyone associates cutting for someone who’s “emo” or “attention seeking”. But it’s not always the case. I consider myself a shy type of girl – I hate talking about how I feel or what I’m thinking about, so I’m hardly the attention seeking type, nor do I like being labelled emo or anything along those lines because of how I look or how I supposedly act.
People these days don’t think that just because we self harm we like it – that’s not it, I hate doing it. Then when I get asked why I do it. I don’t have a particularly perfect reason, everyone’s are different but I believe it was because I was going through a rough time with my family – dad was really annoying me, I wasn’t being noticed, I was being blamed for stuff I never done, school pressure, and one of my best friends ditching me for a 22 year old guy.
So I took all the pain I had and bottled it up until I found out that by bottling it up, it haunted me, all I could think about was how angry I was and how I wanted to get back at myself and take control of how I felt by doing something about it. And I turned to self harm. Not the best choice I know, but at the time I knew no other way to let it out.
I remember the first time it happened, I was shaking and crying and the first thing I did was run into the bathroom, snap one of those disposable razors and went back into my room sat on the floor and looked at the blade, and seconds later, I had made a slit on my arm.
The pain was enough to take my mind off everything going on even though it hurt. After I had done it, I felt no pain. Days later I found myself doing it more and more and I couldn’t stop. I told myself that I could limit it to one area, oh no, it spread I started on my wrist, which then lead to my hips and thighs and on my lower back. I was good at hiding them too – my best excuse was that the cat had gone for me.
I thought it was my own little secret, but my best friend was suspicious so I told her in the end, she was really supportive. Just the thought of having someone you could go to if you were upset just for a shoulder to cry on or talk to, the feeling was indescribable. After a while, I wanted to make it stop after hiding it for so long. I started to talk to the Samaritans through email because I felt confident enough to talk to someone that could not judge me, but I made a mistake one day by leaving my emails up and mum wanted on the computer. I never realised it until one day I was on the computer and the words out her mouth were “how are you, you okay kimberley” I knew something was going to be brought up and I could feel myself starting to shake and go all hot like, I was going to pass out.
The next words were “how long have you been hurting yourself?” I froze for words. How could I tell my mum that I was hurting myself? After a few minutes of my mum telling me I should have come to her I burst out in tears. The moment that happened mum sat beside me and hugged me and told me how much she loved me and she didn’t want me to be like that anymore. I showed her my scars and she began to cry. The only thing running through my head was “what have I done”.
I felt like I had hurt my mum and not myself. Both my mum and I decided I should go to the doctors to get a check up and I agreed. He told me how the scars were not fresh so I hadn’t done it in a while which was good. He told me because I was so calm about it I did not need a councillor or psychologist. At the end of the day I felt a huge relief getting it off my back. Sure now everyone is careful around me and I admit that I do still cut when I can’t cope but I am on the road to recovery and with the support of my friends and family I’m going good.
I just wanted to let people know, self harm is not something people should do for attention, from personal experience the addiction of the blade gets worse and you find it harder to stop. The pain you cause family and friends turns out to be more than just a scare. There are organisations like To Write Love On Her Arms that help and understand those who do self harm, they are amazing at support and advice, what they gave me was very meaningful and to people who self harm in the world, you’re not alone. You don’t have to be. You may not want help, but do it, for your own safety. You won’t regret it.

kimberley
16
Glasgow

Teenagers and The Media

2009-02-03T11:13:00.000-08:00

Well what can I really say about teenagers and the media well…
Most of the time when the media talks about teenagers they basically say that most teenagers drink, do drugs and get into fights with other schemes.
Sometimes magazines can get a bit out of hand to I don’t think many girls become hookers just to get drugs and I don’t think girls from Europe are going to go to America to become an actress, end up a porn star and get aids.
I don’t think many teenage girls are like that.
What I personally like about magazines which I think they should have more of are personal letters that teenagers, like myself, write about their problems and sometimes I can relate to it so it's also good for me and im sure many other girls.

Amanda Mckayy

Stereotypes

2009-02-03T11:12:00.001-08:00

Okay, stereotypes are being thrown all over the place these days, and it really does piss me off. Throwing in a few names if you’re in an argument, fine, do as you will. But to people who you just walk by in the street when they’re trying to get on with their own lives and have fun? Where did all that come from?
Emo’s for example, the media does my head in lately, with all these accusations that “Emo is a suicidal cult”. What a load of crap. I know people who are Emo’s who have never cut themselves in their lives! And they certainly aren’t depressed.
But Chavs on the other hand, they kinda drive me up the wall.
Listening to shitty music on their phones loudly outside a chip shop shouting abuse at people just for looking at them, all these stereotypes have caused nothing but shit between people now.
Since when did we all suddenly have to abide by a certain label these days?

Razza
15
Coggeshall

Gossip

2009-02-03T11:10:00.000-08:00

Think What You Want
Say What You Want
Bitch All You Like
It Doesn’t Bother Me
Coz Too Me It Just Means You Have To Have The Gossip
So You Can Take The Mick
So Go Ahead, Talk All You Want
But To Let You Know
Gossiping Can Hurt
It Can Make The People You Gossip & Bitch About Really Unhappy
& Even Though That’s Probably What You Intended
Its Really Not Nice
Imagine People Saying Stuff About You
Even Your Friends
It Hurts
So Is There Any Point In You Saying Stuff??
Think About It, It Might Change You

Lauren Garner

Stuck In A World Of Killing

2009-02-03T11:08:00.001-08:00

There are some pretty disgusting people in this world.
The things people do and say.
It's sickening.
The news on T.V.
Always bringing more horrific events into our homes.
And of course it has to be bad to make the news.
Murders.
Suicides.
Rape.
Torture.
Theft.
Attacks.
A world at war with itself is doomed, is it not?
How are we supposed to move forward and progress if all we do it hurt one another?
Yeah, the murderer might not know his victim. But he does know that that person has a family and people that care about them, yet they still proceed in killing them?
This planet is so messed up.
So much that the people who live on it feel the need to kill themselves.
Are the people on Earth really so desperate they feel there is no other option?
We, all of us need to think about the possible consequences of our actions. Leaving someone out of a conversation in the school corridors. To you it might be a small insignificant action. But to that person you left out, how do you think they feel? How would you feel in their position?
That leads me onto another point
Stereotypes.
This is the one this that gets me the most.
Who the heck do you think you are?
Strutting around, labelling people like they’re your property.
Oh so and so he's an emo
Yeah she's a pikey
Uhoh here comes the boffin
It's just STUPID.
Every single individual person on this damned planet is different.
What gives you the right to put over...what? 6 billion people into categories?
We are all very, very different. Not only in appearance but in personality.

Until we can overcome the love of power
we will not see the power or love.

Inspired by Maria Kenny & Renee Yeho.
Becki - 15 - Bournemouth

Punk

2009-02-03T11:07:00.003-08:00

Punk is more a way of life than a style. Although I'm not wearing punky clothes it doesn't stop me being one. I could go on about 'being who you are inside’, blah blah blah, but everyone's heard that already.
People label you because you look different and they can't really take it that you're breaking down boundaries. You get stereotyped because of the way you look, not by your personality.
For example, I'm pretty OK to get along with, I talk to people and I don't hate people for the sake of it, but just the other day I got stones thrown at me for being a 'dirty emo'. Is that really right?
Just because I don't go around with my trousers round my ankles shouting 'BRUP' all the time (I'm not stereotyping here, just describing the person who was throwing things.) that makes it ok to hurt me?
Ok, I'm beginning to sound a bit pathetic so I'll end it on this note:
We're people, not a fashion style.

Rhiannon

Fashion

2009-02-03T11:07:00.001-08:00

Fashion. To some girls it’s majorly important but to others it’s just an everyday thing. The tip I have is just be you. If you see a top YOU like for £5.00 but see a more fashionable one for £15.00, buy the one you like and will feel comfortable in. Some People are obsessed with fashion, but that’s just them, always remember, Be YOURSELF!!

Laura – 13 - East Yorkshire

Slaughter: The Cruel World Behind The Catwalks

2009-02-03T11:05:00.000-08:00

Many models walk down catwalks wearing fur, not fake plastic kind, fur from innocent animals which have been killed for the vanity of other people.

Jean-Paul Gaultier released a new fashion range down the French catwalk; all his models gladly wore foxes heads as hats with no problem. Geultier also dressed Marion Cotillard in a silver scaled ‘mermaid looking’ dress for the Oscars.

Also fashion designer Dennis Basso faced animal rights protesters after sending his models down the catwalk dressed in fox jackets, mink coats and alligator vests.
Vogue editor Anna Wintour and Sex and the City author Candace Bushell both wore fur to the Basso Catwalk.
Is it just blatantly bad taste or the new era of fashion?

Due to no respect for animal rights protesters a number of angry persons stormed the French catwalk naked. ‘‘Designers who use fur are heartless and shameless. Designers who insist on using the skins of tortured animals know it will generate column inches, but the fact remains that cruelty will never be in fashion.”
- Quoted PETA Members.

Many companies advertise in Fashion/Vanity magazines with models posing naked/semi naked in fur, they try to make it seem glamorous to young children/teenagers.
These ads fail to show people the real story behind how an innocent animal’s life was lost.

Facts About The Cruel Fashion Industry:
• Foxes are kept in cages 2.5 feet square with up to 4 per cage.
• Trapped animals remain in the traps for a number of days, some animals escape by chewing their own foot off but they unfortunately die a number of days after due to blood loss or poisoning.
• To kill animals without damaging their fur they usually stamp, strangle or beat the animals.

For more infomation on animal cruelty please visit:
www.peta.org
www.buav.org
www.furisdead.com

Exam Pressure

2009-02-03T11:04:00.000-08:00

I have my GCSE exams soon, and I feel hugely under pressure. I have tried revising but I just can’t concentrate. The teachers overwork us at school and if we tell them that the work is too hard, they just say “it doesn’t matter to us; we’re not the ones going to fail”.
I am really scared of failing,

“It’s my worse fear”

. My social life makes it harder to concentrate. I keep arguing with my boyfriend and my mates want to talk to me on Bebo and MSN.
I think it would be better if my school opened at weekends so I could go there to revise. I struggle to revise on my own and having other people around me, doing the same thing would help a lot.
These exams are the biggest thing in my life so far, I am predicted C’s and I really need to get higher to fulfil my dream of going to university and becoming a teacher.
When I am a teacher, I will keep off the student’s backs and not annoy them, because I know how stressful exams are.

Hannah - 15

Exams Are Good

2009-02-03T11:03:00.000-08:00

I think it’s fair to say EVERYONE hates exams! They are just so stressful and annoying! Personally I am a year nine girl and I have just done my SAT's. My school made it out that nothing I had ever done in my life mattered and it was all down to what I produced in my SAT's now. I was really worried and nervous! We had a week of exams starting the Tuesday after a bank holiday Monday. That whole long weekend was dedicated to revision! We had two a day including Maths 1, Maths 2, Mental Maths, Science 1, Science 2, Shakespeare Essay Paper, Writing Paper and the English Reading Paper. So after all my revision we did them all, and to my surprise I found them all actually quite easy and I wasn't stressed at all at the end of the week! But personally, I actually think exams are quite helpful. I mean, when I take my GCSE's I am going to be really glad I did my SAT's because they give us a bit of an experience of what they are going to be like. We know what to expect now too, so it won't come as such a shock in year 11. Whereas if the Government decide to completely stop exams until GCSE's, they would come and we would all be incredibly nervous and not know what was going on. Thankfully we know what to expect now though! So after all the stress of the revision, I think it is all worth it in the end!

Holly, 14 from Wiltshire

Drugs and Diets

2009-02-03T11:02:00.000-08:00

It would take me all day to name you all the crack head celebs around today; but with the media constantly giving them attention, is it just a career boost or a street cred street? Personally, I think being high off your head looks disgusting. And it’s actually pretty sad if you have to take drugs to have fun in life. There are other scenarios where people take it for depression, suicide or just a buzz. But for whatever reason, it’s really gotta stop! Can’t Amy Winehouse take her own advice, and say ‘No, No, No’ to drugs or will she keep appearing in shops and on TV in the state she is. Seriously, do you think it makes you look hard? Because if it’s just to impress your mates, don’t you have a personality? Get help! It isn’t attractive, or impressive. It damages your body and how many times do people have to tell you? It’s not like we’re telling you something new. I’ve been offered drugs loads of times, and I’m not saying I haven’t tried it. But I’m not addicted, thankfully, and I wouldn’t go back. I’ve been told on countless occasions about drugs and the consequences but if everyone knows the dangers then why take the risk?

Nowadays, diets are too common. When all you see are stick thin celebs like Victoria Beckham splashed on the covers of every mag, it’s hard not to compare yourself. The numbers of anorexic teens are on a rise and it’s really no surprise. Diet pills, starving yourself and over exercising; where’s the fun? Truthfully now boys, do you prefer girls skinny or curvy? When I did research, the geek I am, Google gave me hundreds of diets I could try, tips to lose weight and sites and online messengers (like msn), to help me or anyone else lose weight. It’s unbelievable how easy it was to access and ridiculous the types of diets it suggests. Here’s some of the most popular: an apple a day, the Atkins diet; only letting you eat food such as meat, cheese and eggs, no fruit!? Cigarettes and coffee, baby food, vitamin injections and diet pills. Diet pills are normally taken with another substance to have the opposing effect, like a day and night drug. Some people disillusion themselves by using smaller plates or mouthfuls, taking longer to eat, chewing a certain number of times. Beyonce once tried a diet of water, cayenne pepper and maple syrup. Bulimics often add salt to water before each meal as apparently it helps you bring your food back up! Diets these days are becoming more extreme and dangerous and increasing worrying. A higher percentage of girls have eating disorders but that does not mean boys do not suffer as well. There are occasions where boys have serious eating disorders and die from starvation. But no matter whether you’re a boy or girl, whatever age, whatever SIZE, we should just be ourselves. Because pretending to be someone else, or changing yourself because you don’t think you fit in, just isn’t right.

Holly Moffitt

The Love Drug

2009-02-03T11:01:00.000-08:00

Before the discovery of sodium pentothal, LSD was used by the world’s authorities as a primary truth agent. It was believed to put the victim into a hallucinogenic trance which forced the truth to the front of the victims mind. The resulting garbage and insane babbling was deciphered to be the truth, and this is why many incorrect convictions were made during its time of service. I know all this because it’s how I began my drug career. Since that time I have hunted and used every drug I could get hold of, each one bringing a different rush, a different high and a different learning experience. I’ve run out of excuses now. I’ve learned all I can. Now I can’t unlearn it. Now I’m alone. Staring my gun in the face with my finger braced on the trigger.

When I was fifteen a kid was killed at my school. Stabbed to death in the school bike shed as I recall, the body was a ghastly mess, the face mangled, the eyes gouged out and the remains of the torso in ragged bloody tatters. I was dragged in for questioning, because I was the one who found the body. A single look into the inspector’s cold grey eyes confirmed my suspicions that he hated me. His face held a look of disgust that took me aback and dragged the vicious image of the body kicking and screaming into my minds eye. His questions went on for hours; his eyes straining to scrutinize a lie form my honest face and his own growing weary with effort. Five hours later, the image of the body came down on my mind like a hammer and I broke down in tears, it was then that the inspector leapt on me, drilling me with accusation of murder and sadism. I screamed “NO”, like a dog howling in pain and the inspector took his chance, cramming the LSD into my open mouth. He got nothing from me.

When I walked out of the police station that night, I saw a different world. I saw red, green and blue all in one. I saw rivers of blood in the streets and whirlwinds of violet smog issuing forth from fluorescent buildings and skylines. I felt the ground writhing beneath my feet like an army of worms and I staggered against the fence which suddenly began binding my arms to it with cold cruel snakeskin chains that cut my flesh and crushed me a lullaby. Then I laughed. Lay on the cold stone and laughed. It gurgled and burned in my throat before erupting into a hysterical shrieking laughter that I could feel reverberating and resonating in the darkening void around me. This laughter sliced the light before my eyes and dragged me to my doom. I loved this feeling and yet it killed me.

I moved like a zombie the next day, I sat in classes shaking and quivering. I was possessed by my experience, I felt free, at last there was no pain, no insecurity, no worry, only bliss. I realised at last how painful reality was and is. As the real world slowly pushed its spikes into my chest, I knew or I thought I knew, that the drugs would make me happy whenever and wherever I was. I backtracked, instantly, I was thinking like a junkie and I knew it. I wanted more yes, but I wasn’t going to have it. My resolve would never have lasted long, I was way too curious, but my vow to myself was to be broken by someone else, someone who would govern my life for so many years, perhaps too many......

I first met Sylvia Smith at a Halloween party, one week later. It was love at first sight, cupid’s arrow striking a cheap shot into my heart. She was the very essence of energy and she radiated freedom of thought like the sun. Her long blonde hair swept down her back in great graceful waves that shone even brighter. Her smile was a sparkling symphony of dazzling white and her beautiful tender lips moved around it like a perfect ballroom dancer across a diamond floor. It was her eyes however that hooked me, they were a deep endless blue that shot me full of a feeling that I could not describe even today. She drove me wild with her slim, curvy figure, her perfect weightless walk, and her voice........incredible........every syllable spoken with and incredible and inhuman passion that was present in even the simplest words............

“hello, enjoying the party?” she said innocently, drilling me with her eyes.
“Uhhh sure, its not bad” I replied, stumbling over the words.
“You seem a little tense, are you alright?” she probed gently.
“Uh home troubles” I lied quickly.
“Oh you poor thing, do you want to come and have a drink with me and talk about it?” she crooned me with a sympathetic frown, covering my bases quickly I proposed a deal of my own,
“I don’t really want to talk about it, but I will come and have a drink with you if that’s ok”
“Definitely” she said with an accepting smile that made my heart dance in my chest. Light hearted and care free we took our place in the corner of the room and talked our endless talk. She had so much to say on so many topics, law, politics, religion, history, even relationships. I listened fixatedly and soaked up her words, adding my own opinions into the medley that continued to bounce back and forth while the party whirled around us, unnoticed. It was the early hours of the morning before we left for home together.

My feet sounded like clumsy thunderclaps next to her soundless taps as we walked in silence down the paved streets. She was lost in thought and seemed to be thinking hard about something, so I left her be. We arrived outside the high-rise block she lived in and she turned to face me and stared silently into my eyes. On some unprecedented instinctual impulse, one which I knew had been screaming to get out ever since we laid eyes on each other; we leapt into each others arms. Our lips crashed together and slipped passionately over each other, tongues working over each others in a great and epic emotional tango. Another rush searing through my head, warming my body and washing the pain from my heart mind and soul like a tidal wave on a filthy beach. I held her tight in my arms and I could feel her body melting against my chest, wrapping me in her passion. Our lips finally parted at long last and I looked into her eyes, seeing our fierce passions burning fiercely together inside them. It felt good to look into those eyes, basking in the after glow of the kiss we had just shared. She embraced me once more and whispered a hushed goodbye before running inside without looking back. I don’t now how long I stood there rapt with thought and buzzing with energy, but what I do know is that at some point I turned around and walked off into the night.

We saw each other frequently and although our relationship was never official we knew we were in love. We talked and laughed like old friends and kissed and romanced like lovers. When we spoke my heart fluttered and when we embraced the rush again ran through my veins as strong as ever. It was about two months after our first kiss when she called me to her flat almost in tears. When I arrived she flung herself upon me, the tears splashing onto my chest. Before I could speak she forced out words I now wish id never heard.

“I’m so sorry..........I’m on heroin”

It was a shock. I was surprised by how she hid it from me, but I was even more surprised by how she admitted it to me. It threw me off the rails but I endured, I was in love and I knew I could never let go, even if I wanted to. I took her hands and swore to her right then, I would never leave her, I would help her, I would be there, that nothing would stand in my way and nothing, absolutely nothing would make me stop loving her. Fatal mistake.

I couldn’t help it, I had taken her heroin and equipment, so she wasn’t tempted but unfortunately I was. I was haunted by the memory of the high and no matter where I was, my mind would always find its way to the needles in the cupboard, glinting in the soft light of the cupboard and welcoming me in. Soon the gremlins began, their hushed voices echoing in my ears like bells from a church steeple. They told me once wouldn’t hurt, that I would feel better and all I had to do was push. I fell at last.

She was clean but I was not. I had given her help but now I needed hers. The guilt and the come downs were too much to bear and I finally confessed. I thought her love was like mine, indestructible. I could neither forget nor describe what I saw in her eyes then before she turned away from me, and left without saying a word. I was dead in the water, I was alone...........

My life as a junkie continued for twenty years, twenty long sordid years that took their toll on my willpower and left twisted and vicious scars on my body. The drugs were all I had and so I did it all, coke methadone, valium, LSD; I took it all and however I could and I made myself sick in the process. Theft, assault, GTA, nothing was sacred anymore. Last week I killed a man for a fix, the final straw indeed.

Now the gun is all I have. I look down the darkness of the barrel and pray, placing the muzzle in my mouth. I’m not worthy to live and I know it, but as I squeeze the trigger and the hammer begins to wind back. I hear a sound, a sweet sound full of life that fills my ears to the brim. Her voice........ it breaks me and a single lonely tear slides down my cheek, the last ill ever shed. I hear my old self laughing at me and it speaks to me with a single word. No. The word gives me strength. NO! My hand quakes. “NO!!!!!” I scream aloud and throw the gun into the corner of the room, my eyes alight with rage and self hate.

“I refuse to go like this” I hear myself say, sounding like my old self, strong. I believe it.

I leave the old flat that night. I leave the keys in the letter box and my skeletons in the closet where they belong. I’m going now, going to find the one person that makes me happy.

Billy Poore
(Written in October 2006)

I Took Drugs

2009-02-03T10:25:00.000-08:00

It was my 16th Birthday. I was at my friend’s house with all my mates. We were all really drunk and having a good time. The music was playing loud and people were dancing. Everyone was having a good time. It was well into the morning when I noticed a guy in the corner was smoking weed. He came over to me and offered me some pills. Because it was my birthday he gave me 7 for free. I wanted to try it for the experience so I took them. The pills were small and had the word PD 155 printed on them. The pills (known as Whizz) tasted just like paracetamol. The pills made me feel hot and then cold and then hot again. It felt weird, but I wasn’t scared, it was fun. The lad then gave me some weed. The weed tasted just like a normal cigarette and made me feel like everyone was chasing me. I enjoyed it. The effect lasted for two days, and the whole time I didn’t know what I was doing,

“I was off my head”

. It soon wore off, and luckily I felt normal. I’m not sure if I would do it again. I was un-aware of my surroundings and I could have easily been hurt. I think I was lucky to have had a good experience because I have heard stories where people do stupid things and can kill themselves or others around them under the influence of drugs.

Rachel - 16

I Was Sexually Abused

2009-02-03T10:08:00.000-08:00

Todayz Teenz have been given exclusive access to Kate’s traumatic story about her sexual abuse. This is the first time she has ever written about her experiences in so much detail.
The names of the people involved have been changed.

Well I guess it all started when I was four years old. My aunty Sarah was babysitting me, like she had done so many times before; but this day was different; on this day the sexual abuse started and never again would my life would be the same.
Ryan (my aunties son) took me into a room and told me to go on the bed. He lay down next to me and within 10 minutes he was putting his hand in places and making me touch him. I was so scared and didn’t quite grasp what was happening so I just lay there, my whole body cringed.
From that day on, he sexually abused me. As I grew older the abuse got worse, I'm not sure if its because I understood it more or because the abuse got worse.
When I was about 9 years old, we were at Christmas lunch and all of a sudden I just wanted to scream out what he was doing to me. He wasn’t a bad person in front of his family, only when he was behind closed doors, really he was the probably the most loved character by my whole family, always had a lot of character.
The next few years continued on and every time I had to go to my auntie's house it was a complete nightmare.
My aunty Sarah had four kids, Natalie, Jyne, Ryan & Laura. Laura was a year younger then me, so my mum always thought it was good for me to play with someone around my own age.
When Ryan wasn’t there it was good, Ryan is 10 years older than me so sometimes he was out with his friends in his car. However the fear of him coming home was so scary, sometimes Laura and I would play hide and seek, often Ryan would join in and he would make me hide with him so he could make me feel him up. I would be so scared hoping Laura would find us quickly but sometimes even 2 minutes seemed like a lifetime!
As I grew up, I didn’t want to play hide and seek. I was now about 11, Mum had to go away with my grandma and I had stay with Aunty Sarah & Uncle Mike. One night Ryan come and lay with me in my bed. I was so scared, shaking in fear, again like I had done so many times before. I just lay there.
It was 2004. I was now 12 and much more mature than my other friends. In August, I had just come back from my sisters 18th. Ryan came home with my Mum, my friend and I.
My friend and I were laying down watching a movie when Ryan came in. He insisted on laying in the middle of us, but this time he wasn’t touching me, I instantly knew he was doing something to my friend. Anyway he got a text message on his phone and left us.

“That was when I thought my nightmare was over”

but what 2005 had in store for me never could I have guessed.
I should mention that my mum has three sisters, Sarah (Ryan's mum) Mary and Dana. Dana and Mary haven't spoken to each other for years.
Anyway it was January of 2005 and Mm and Grandma started to fight. Mum had done something that my Grandma didn’t really agree with. By late April, Mum wasn't on talking terms with either Sarah, Mary or Grandma. For 2 months I had been thinking I can finally make sure this will never happen again.
However I dwelled on telling Mum for a while. Finally in late June I think,

“I told mum that her favourite nephew had been sexually abusing me for 7 and half years”

.
I don't even remember saying it, I just remember her face and wishing I had never even said anything. Later I went into my bedroom and picked up a pair of scissors and put them to my wrist,

“I attempted to cut myself”

but I couldn't. Soon enough my Grandma had found out what I had said and by my birthday, things were much worse. News had spread quickly to Ryan's family. My Grandma didn't come and see on my birthday, instead I got a present and card in the mail.

“Broke my heart”

. Mum was out when the parcel arrived. When she arrived home I was sitting on the lounge floor with the card that said "Kate Happy Birthday, Grandma & Pop" Unlike the normal cards I had received. Normally it would say "to darling granddaughter Kate, Happy birthday sweetheart lots of love Grandma & Pop“. In the months to come

“I started to hate myself

”. I wanted to tell Grandma my side but I knew she didn't want to hear it. Later that year my Grandma & Pop moved 12 hours away. Things have never really been the same.
I visited councillors but they seemed to make me angry.
My grandma and I have barley had a conversation since. In 2007, Christmas was so difficult. I found it hard to sit there and pretend like everything was ok. Out of every single person in my family, My grandparents were only people I thought would have believed me. And they didn't. I say it doesn't bother me but deep down the pain could be enough to kill. My aunty Dana her husband have been a huge support for me and some other distant cousins, but I once thought I had a huge network of family, but when things turned dark they all walked away.
The people who mattered stood by me and I can't thank them enough.
Now nearly 3 years on, I still tremble seeing him, unfortunately we live in the same town and sometimes avoiding someone in a town this size isn't as easy that it seems. He now is married with a little girl of his own, I pray he doesn't do anything to his little girl, I know in my heart that living where I am I will never have a happy and full filling life, so eventually I hope to move, away from the place I did call home for 12 years.
I’m hoping by me speaking out, It has scared him enough to not do it again. Now nearly 16, I still get depressed, I find it hard of having a relationship, even a friendship with a man, I struggle to relate to other people my age, I have trust issues.
I'm hoping by telling my story it will help other people my age.
I want to make sexual abuse more known. I have recently opened a support group via Bebo and hope to launch my own website and help lines eventually.
This story is probably the most detailed version I have given. It was very hard for me to write and reading it back the tears well up in my eyes.
At the moment I'm happy within myself and don’t hold a regret about speaking out. I wish so much that my grandparents could except what's happened and acknowledged it, but that’s their choice and as much as it hurts I've accepted.
I still hope one day they say "hey Kate. What happened when you were younger?" but the chances of that happening are almost zero.
I've also learnt I cant change what's happened to me, and I'll never forgive nor forget, and the memories will probably haunt me for the rest of my life, but I will move on.

Thank you for reading my story.
Lots of love Kate.

Animal Testing

2009-02-03T10:06:00.000-08:00

Almost everyone in the world is aware of animal testing, So the question is: Why isn't much done about it?
There have been lots of arguments about this particular topic, but no one listens to what the protesters have to say.
Why do people want a job wich kills animals?
How can they sleep at night? It's unfair that animals are the ones that get tested on just because they can't defend theirselves.
Voluntary humans should be the ones who get tested on!
The debate about testing still goes on but will something be done? Every animal that is or going to be tested has a Life of Misery Ahead. Every Animal Has a right for a good life.

Bethany Giblin

Why? - Poem About War

2009-02-03T10:03:00.000-08:00

Fighting a silent battle, turns into reality,
This is just the start of a miserable fatality.
Today the death toll is at a mass,
Sounds at a blow that can shatter glass.
One by one the living fall,
The downfall of mankind, the fate of them all.
Madness is breaking every soul in two,
Casting shadows in the pale shade of blue.

The horizon is full of torment and death,
The unknown soldiers save their every last breath.
They are the sea raging through the barren land,
For eternity they will stand.
Like a trail of broken souls they will fight,
For they will be sacrificed for their country tonight.
Bullets are breaking every soul in two,
Casting shadows in the pale shade of blue.

We know nothing of this hell on earth,
We don't understand what our lives are worth.
Hiding in trenches one moment then dying the next,
We start to think that our lives aren't perplexed.
While the innocent soldiers fight for their lives,
We are unable to predict who survives.
Gunshots are breaking every soul in two,
Casting shadows in the pale shade of blue.

We go on with our lives while the innocent fall,
While the news and the Government forget to tell all.
Story after story, another solider dies,
How long do we have to listen to these lies?
Equipment failures, far and few,
Are a mean death for one or two.
Again the politicians are breaking every soul in two,
Casting shadows in the pale shade of blue.

How many die? I wish we knew,
Its not only the men, its the families too.
They've given their life, one and all,
Nothing so precious than life from our grasp will fall.
This gift is given well and true,
Would this be given if God only knew?
Our faith is breaking every soul in two,
Casting shadows in the pale shade of blue.

The futility of war is there for all to see,
It shows what a waste peoples lives can be.
As their lives are on the brink,
Three score and ten is what we think.
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth,
Not making twenty, that's the painful truth.
Guns, bombs and people are breaking every soul in two,
Coffins draped in red, white and blue.

Clair Roberts, 13

I Ran Away From Home

2009-02-03T10:01:00.000-08:00

My boyfriend and I had always been a close couple. Together almost a year, But something seemed to be tearing u apart. Well as we thought. Being a teenager of the age of 14 and my boyfriend only being 16, we thought we knew it all. We had fallen for each other as soon as we met and 11 months on we were in love as it seemed.

Life was stressful and to this day I can never remember all the reasons why we did it. We felt like we were being separated, and we wanted to be together so bad. It seems crazy now looking back, but anyway, on the 17 of may 2007

“me and my boyfriend decided to run away”

, we didn’t know where we were going or what we were doing , but weirdly at that moment in time it felt so right. We got so many buses and trains I can’t even remember where we were most of the time, but we ended up in York. That night we had nowhere to sleep. With just the clothes we were wearing, some food and other simple necessities, we called it a night as we were worn out from travelling and mentally exhausted from worry. We slept in the train station. It was cold and scary.

That night I couldn’t sleep, even with my boyfriend beside me, even knowing this is what we wanted and we had done it, I felt guilty. I felt guilty because only then I realised it was my mum’s birthday, I had ran away from home on my own mothers birthday. I felt like a cold-hearted cruel monster and decided right there and then that we had to go back. I had no other choice, I felt like I betrayed my whole family. So the next morning, as soon as my boyfriend saw my face he knew I wanted to go back. We waited for the next train straight home which was at 8:30 in the morning. I slept all the way through our journey not knowing that what I was returning to was going to be hell on Earth.

We got the bus up to my boyfriend’s house (When I think back, all of the journey home are a blur, I don’t remember much to be honest). When we opened the door and his whole family were in the living room and

“fear struck through me like lightening”

. I stood rigid staring at them all. I phoned my mum right away and not soon after, the police arrived for questioning. It was so scary. I did not even imagine once I would have to be questioned by a police officer, but here I was in my boyfriend’s bedroom being asked questions by a female police officer. It was like a dream. My mum and dad took me home and I was told I was never allowed to see my boyfriend again. They were angry but I think they were more worried because they seemed calm.

When I got home and saw my room I finally realised that what we had done was more than some silly trip. This was very serious. My room was practically tipped upside down; I couldn’t see the floor because my room was searched for clue to my whereabouts. After I showered I was questioned again and also found out that we were in the daily newspaper and also on the five o’clock news. It was very scary knowing I had caused all this trouble, I felt so bad and guilty about it all.

I wasn’t aloud to see my boyfriend at all for about two months and that broke my heart. It was one of the hardest things I have even done, but I think those two months made me realise what I’d done and that this was a fair punishment. Not long after, my parents decided to let me see my boyfriend again. That was a year ago and my family still have trust issues with me and my boyfriend and us seeing each other. Things have got better, but all of the trouble and worry we caused was not worth it. I completely regret it, and when I think back now I wonder what would have happened if we didn’t come home? Would we have survived? Would we be found? Those are questions that will never be answered, but all I can say, for a message to teenagers who feel trapped and alone or just want to get out, running away isn’t the thing to do. Running away makes things worse for you and your family. You have to think about the consequences first before you act on how you feel. I would advise just try talking to your parents or someone you trust and not do something stupid like we did. It’s not worth losing friends and family over.

“Think before you act”

Kimberley Graham – 15 - Scotland

Global Warming - Do You Care?

2009-02-03T10:00:00.000-08:00

I am a very strong believer in Global Warming and everyone doing their bit to help the environment. I encourage my family to keep the lights off unless they are essential and we also recycle a lot. Lots of people think Global Warming isn't really happening and believe the data we are being shown and told about of temperature rises is unreliable and inaccurate. I disagree with these people though because fair enough they can have their opinion but we have been shown LOTS of data and graphs so how can ALL of them together give inaccurate results?! If the same thing keeps coming back time and time again (temperature changes) then there must be something happening and in my opinion it is Global Warming. If we keep going how we are, our children’s children’s children will not have a world to live on because our generation will have wrecked it. If we are going to do something about it we might as well do it now while we can. Loads of teens think talking about how they feel about Global Warming is stupid and "sad" but it really isn’t! What is "sad" about saving electricity and helping to stop the melting of ice?! So I think people should just say how they feel about Global Warming and not care what everyone else thinks about them because at the end of the day it’s about your world, not your reputation.

Holly, 14, Wiltshire

Bullying At School

2009-02-03T09:50:00.000-08:00

Can anyone answer the question, why people do this to other people?
Why do people feel as if they have to put other people through loads of pain and suffering?
Why?
Do you know what it feels like when no-one likes you?
In this article I will explain to you how much it hurts to been alone with no-one there beside you. I will start by saying it’s not a nice feeling at all for anyone to go through in their life. There are many people out there who go through a series of been bullied and I’m just one of the many.
I will start by telling you how it feels; It makes me feel as if

“I just want to curl up in a tight ball and then wait for the ground to swallow me up”

and spit me out far away from here, then hope and pray that everything will be alright. But I really guess that can’t happen as I am still here now putting up with everything.
I used to have best mates, boys and girls and we use to have loads and loads of laughs together, it was so much fun; we could tell each other our deepest darkest secrets, and I was so comfortable with my friends.
Everything seemed to get better when I got a boyfriend that I had really liked for a long time, I loved him so much and I felt as if there was no-one else I wanted to spend my whole entire life with except him. He made me feel like I was the most special person in the whole world; I was always happy and had a massive smile on my face 24/7.
I just don’t understand what went wrong.

“My life just went tumbling down hill”

. All my friends fell out with me and I was left with no-one. I felt so empty inside. My heart was broken as my boyfriend spilt up with me and I was left to shed tears. From this point onwards everyone hated me and seemed to have something against me, but what? I asked why but they just couldn’t tell me what it was, I really wondered if there was any reason why they were about to do what they had planned to; and the answer was no, they didn’t, but they did it anyway.
One day came and a new group of people asked me to join them in their big gang of friends and I was full of joy and happiness, my face just lit up when I heard people who cared about my feelings and they were there right in front of me, talking to me, was I dreaming? No I wasn’t, this was it for real; it was really happening, I actually had some friends.
However I think I was too happy too soon, my old friends must have seen or heard that I had new friends, I think they realised I didn’t see them as friends anymore, they decided to become my ‘enemies’ which made the problems worse. I thought the new people were a really nice group of friends, but I don’t think I can call them that when they are calling me names, getting me down and joining in with the others who hate me also.
After a few weeks it got worse and worse, I’d been name called, wished dead, told to commit suicide and had been accused of many awful, disturbing things and been mentioned in many rumours and been accused of saying many things about other people, that I had never done or said. I was pushed around and about, physically abused and threatened in person, over the internet and on the phone. I couldn’t concentrate in lessons; my heart would beat faster and faster when it got close to the end of the lesson because I knew they were all going to be waiting for me after the lesson or at the gates to have a go at me for nothing at all. I would sit at home and cry about all the things that had been said and done to me that day, I would tell my mum and dad and they wouldn’t be happy at all, I would write down everything that had taken place and all my feelings in note book and sometimes it was never ending, I also laid awake in bed wondering when they would stop harassing me. I told the school hoping they would be able to help me out, not to make them be friends with me, just to make them stop all of the problems with them that I was having, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and the teachers and helpers at school didn’t seem to have done anything about it, or they might have tried but they probably didn’t listen or even think about stopping what was happening to me. It all carried on for months and months, and it also seemed to me that some of the teachers didn’t believe me that I hadn’t done anything wrong. I think the bully’s made up lies about me to the teachers because they knew they would believe the biggest crowd, which I think is totally wrong. There is only one person that knows the truth and that’s me. The people that have made up all the lies know the truth but they are not going to admit it. It was the worst feeling I had ever had in my entire life.

“I felt drained and empty”

and as if I shouldn’t be here. I was asked if I was going to commit suicide if they carry on doing what they had been doing for so long. They made up new lies about me every day so they could be nasty to me, things like I had been saying stuff about other people behind their backs, even though I had said nothing. All I wanted was some friends who cared and wanted me around them, so why on Earth would I say such thing? My life is and was a mess and I feel it will carry on like this for the rest of my life; people just seem to have something against me and they don’t want me to ever be happy and have friends, they just think that it is funny to make people upset and that it is something to do when they are bored. What kind of people are they? Maybe there jealous or something, I just don’t know, I don’t understand my life anymore.
Well I know that I have a good character and that I am a very nice person, so I just can’t see why people have to be so horrible to me.
So that’s it basically. To anyone reading this, stay close to your friends, make sure you know who your true mates are and have always been there and they believe you at all costs, because that’s what a true friend is all about, believing in each other and making sure you always have that someone there to back you up in any situation. As you have just read, I had no-one in my life that I could say something to. I felt like my life was really not worth living from all the trauma I have been through, but I am going to try my hardest, face up to everything and ignore the people, get on with my school work and hopefully have a good career at the end of school.
This is only a section of the things I have been through and I know there is more to come. There is just one more thing I want you to know; if you are one of the people out there that bully other people for fun, or because you are bored or simply for no reason at all, please leave them alone or stay away from them, you now know how that person feels. I have described not only mine, but every victim’s feelings in this article; and it’s not very pleasant.
Thank you for reading.

Anonymous - 14