Know me, if you will. Love me, if you can.

Here goes with more about me. I'm not self-centered, I just prefer to try and love myself rather than hate myself.
Just like anyone, some people love me and some people hate me.
I should just be happy, but it's not that easy for me.
Something a lot of people don't realise is behind the fake smile lies the pain and the tears which have not yet fallen.

I haven't had a tough life compared to many people, but it has been a challenge.
I spent my childhood not playing merrily with my friends, but being terrified to leave my mothers side. I used to bang at the window and cry when my mother left me at creche. This is because of the bullying that occurred within those walls.
It was mostly physical bullying at that age, it was pushing, shoving, hair pulling, biting, harming and such, but the worst was the girl who picked me up by my pony tail, removing a large chunk of my hair and tossing me to the floor. That place full of glitter and wonder was my equivalent to hell.
I only remember my childhood up to the age of 9 very vaguely. I know it was just physical, emotional and mental torment. I had very few friends due to the fact that I'd become afraid of talking to people and terrified of the thought of trusting anyone. The trust thing still happens now. I have extreme difficulty letting people in.

I've also put my horrible childhood down as the reason I have such a passionate hate for children.

I was 13 when I finally found a voice for myself. I decided with my new found confidence and new found friends, I could take on the world. Next came high school. Fresh start. No one knew me there. I faked an entire personality. The new Michelle wasn't afraid to talk to people. She was out spoken, she quickly gained friends.

Finally, the years of torment had ended, I thought.

This was not the case. A fight led to the loss of all my new friends and to the loss of my confidence, self-esteem and desire to keep trying. It trashed everything I had achieved. Although I made new friends, better friends, the happy, self confident Michelle had died in the process. I faced a mountainous challenge, surviving depression. I did my best to hide it, although with every forced smile, I knew I was just lying to myself. The desire to keep going was fading, I lightly considered ending it all. Nothing else was ending the pain. Luckily I was smart enough to realise that wasn't the best solution.

I pulled through. My physical scars faded, but the emotional ones didn't.

The next year I was doing alright up until a point where yet again, my mental health crashed. I wanted nothing to do with the world. Any mentally healthy person wont understand how it feels to feel so low. You may have your sad days, but when it lasts weeks and months, you really begin to doubt you'll ever feel okay again. I will admit to self harm. I'm not proud of it, but shit happens. Luckily I heal well and scars are a rare occurrence. You honestly feel worthless.

I slowly returned to myself, my unharmed self.
I was going great. I'd been continuously happy, life was looking up.

Up until recently that is. I don't know what happened. Something inside me snapped. All the self worthlessness returned. The confidence fell down. The fake happiness returned to try and hide the pain. My desire to hurt myself crept back in, this time in a location not so obvious as my arm. I just have to keep going. But going on is hard when I get told so many negatives.

I guess I just have to put on a brave face and charge at this head on.

I wish people with mental illness weren't frowned upon. Mental illness is as much of a disease as cancer. Both can kill you. No one chooses to have either. No one wants every good part of their brain ruined by mental illness. It ruins your happiness and your perception. It ruins you and just like cancer, even if you think it's all gone, it can appear again later and even more aggressively.
How come "She died of cancer" is socially acceptable whereas "She committed suicide" is not?

Don't judge me on what I've been through, judge me on the real person I am.
Instead of making negative comments like "Just deal with it" or "It's not that hard, just be happy" or "Just look at the brightside" Because, trust me, if it were that easy, I would not suffer so much.
Try to be helpful. Be supportive. Sometimes all we need is a hug and to be told we're beautiful, but then again, sometimes it isn't that simple.

Just, accept me as I am or not at all.