When I was 10, I had a nosebleed at school. I went into the girls' bathroom and wrote "IT" on the wall with my blood. Everyone thought I was depressed. I wasn't. I was sexually abused, angry, and a little homicidal, but I wasn't depressed. In 7th grade, I made a pathetic attempt to kill myself. In the 8th grade, I tried it again, this time I
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