Born 1993 in a little town in Surrey, I was slowing falling behind in life. School kept telling my mother I would catch up, but by year 6 they started to expected that maybe there was a-little more going on then they thought. By the time I went to secondary school  I was given the Dyslexia label. I made friends with a group of girls in my class. All of them were very gifted at school, all in the higher sets for Math and English, while I had to spend most of my days in classes by myself with people who didn’t care about school. By the time Year 10 came I started to feel really sad and alone. Emptiness would hit me like a wave and I wasn’t yet a strong enough swimmer. By the time year 11 came I had started self harming and felt like a lost soul wondering around without a purpose. My friends took me to the doctors where I was given yet another label, Depression and anxiety. I felt like it was wrong but no one would listen, a couple of session of CBT and then I was back to wondering around. Having points of excessive happiness only to be followed by crippling sadness. And I thought that was my life. First year of college, and having to re-do my GCSE, as I didn’t get all 5, I was yet again excluded from my friends. But yet another label had to come my way Gay. I was know a dyslexia lesbian with mental health issues. Yet I kept strolling on, only for me to collide with 2016 like ball hitting a bat. Having my break down at 22 and this is where I will elaborate.

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