When I was in primary school, year 6, (around the age of 10-11) I was bullied because of my skin colour. I wasn't necessarily dark skinned, I just a looked tanned. But there was this girl that would always pick on me, call me awful nicknames. Everyone used to call me it, make me feel small and sad. I never told my parents because they were getting a divorce.

Then I moved to secondary school, after a year everyone was good. The girl in my primary school was in my secondary but she didn't cause much trouble. But word got out about the nickname people used to call me. It was another girl from my primary school. I felt awful. Whenever someone called me the nickname, I was about to have a panic attack. I tried calming myself down and walking away.

Still today I get bullied because of that nickname.

But now I ignore it, and I feel immensely better.

Now it's gets really personal.

My parents got divorced and I was happy, because they used to always shout and scream in our house and my siblings weren't really affected by it. But I was. I used hide behind my bed, crying to myself.

My dad then left and I was happy. I used to see him with my sister because my brother hated him for some reason.

One day my sister started eating less and puking more. She had bulimia. It was my 12th birthday and I was going to celebrate it with my dad and sister at the hospital she was at. It was almost 12 o clock because we had a tradition to celebrate it at 12.

My sister wanted to puke again. She wasn't allowed but then my dad got angry. He yelled at her, saying 'go to the bathroom, puke!'

I was caught up in this and I didn't know what to do. I started hyperventilating and so was my sister. I started to black out but I didn't and just fell the floor.

Everything was a blur after that. The nurses came to help my sister, my dad trying to apologise. My mum coming in to help her.

But there was me. Everyone forgot about me. I stayed the night there, wanted to cheer up my sister. The next day I went home with my mum and the memories of last night flooded my head.

I started having a panic attack but my mum was saying 'get up, let's go' that made me even more sad. I got up after my panic attack and went home with her. I hated her for not caring about me. She never did.

My sister stopped seeing my dad and then moved to an inpatient unit. She then started to see him and so did I.

But there was a small incident. Me and my sister and my dad were supposed to go to a theme park because my sister had home leave. She brought something up about his profile picture on what's app that was my brother.

My brother would've been furious because he hated my dad.

Then everything went down hill. He started shouting at her, and then she grabbed a CD and snapped it, trying to cut herself. I tried to help her before she could go to my wrist. My dad brought along his friend which we weren't happy with. He tried helpin but then she ran out the car, ran on to the road, trying to get hit by a car.

I started having a panic attack and just started crying, getting out the car and falling down because I couldn't breathe. I heard my sister screaming and then she was forcely put into the car.

I was grabbed by my arm hard and pushed into the car. It was my dad. He didn't care that I was thinking about hurting myself and that I didn't want to live with this happening. But then again, he didn't know.

After that we both stopped seeing my dad. I was angry at him. Nothing went right at home either. My mum and brother would always shout at me at the little things I did wrong.

I self harmed on my leg, thighs. I wanted to feel pain but I didn't want anyone to know.

I used to always cry in the bathroom and I still do now. My mum and brother never listen to me and my sister is mentally unstable.

I still hate my life. I still want to die. I always cry when something goes wrong or when my mum shouts at me.

I just want it all to end. I don't want help, because then my mum would know about it. I can't tell my friend because they'll get worried. I can't tell a teacher because they will tell my mum.

And when she finds out, she'll shout and scream at me, maybe even hit me.

I'm so scared but I try to act like everything fine. It's so hard.

I just want to stop living. I want to die.

I'm still being bullied and my mum and brother still shout at me. My sister is still mentally unstable and I don't see my dad. My family practically hate me. I cant talk to my friends about it.

I have no one. I just want to fall into a hole and die. I just want to be someone else.