No-one really knows what it's like to be ashamed of everything about you. The way you look, the way you talk, the way you breathe... To be so self-concious that you hide under baggy clothes, silence and self-isolation.

No-one can ever begin to imagine how I feel on a day to day, minute to minute. I constantly feel belittled and judged no matter where I am.

I used to think I was just paranoid, that when I grew up I'd get over it, but now it has become me.

I don't have that many friends, a few close ones I'll admit but really my boyfriend is my entire world. He's my best friend.. and the only person I've trusted in a very long time. It may seem pathetic, but we do everything together. He understands me and everything I go through. He knows what it's like to have a crummy dad that you want nothing to do with, and to have parents you want to run away from sometimes.

We've been through a lot together, and I honestly believe I'd lose myself if he left. Thanks to him I've gained a small amount of confidence, but my paranoia has increased.

Lately, I joined an organisation -not a club, if you call it a club... well don't- and at first, I gained several friends but then more people joined and I felt closed off from everyone.. When I went to camp over Easter, I sort of stuck to a girl in an attempt to actually form a friendship like everyone else. She was, and is, everything I've ever wanted to be.

She is beautiful, thin and well liked. She's confident, but not cocky. She's the person I'd love to have as my best friend, but thanks to my many unlikeable qualities - she'd never want to be friends with someone like me. A freak.

When I was younger, my mother got remarried so I moved around 30 miles to a place I'd never even heard of. And if changing schools and making new friends wasn't hard enough, they all picked on me..

They all made fun of my accent, which is pretty ironic considering I've never considered myself to have an accent other than Scottish. They picked on me purely because I was different... A freak.

Then puberty hit.

I got boobs.

It was like a big game.. Oh look her accent has adjusted, lets bully her about her body..

It was awful. I'd lock myself in my bathroom and just cry for hours. I couldn't do anything to change the problem, and I couldn't bring myself to stand up for myself.

I only started to feel better about myself when I started high school, shockingly, it was like no-one remembered to torture me because there was more people to choose from, a bigger pool of victims.

Now, people are more discreet about slandering me.. behind my back or indirectly on a Facebook status.

School's not exactly perfect, not that anything is.

I'm failing Physics and Chemistry, if I scrape by in English it will be nothing but a miracle, Art is a definite fail.. maybe I'll pass Administration.. too bad being able to type up a spreadsheet doesn't seem necessary when delivering babies...

I don't have blonde hair, I'm definetly not slim, and I'm not pretty...

But I have a roof over my head, food in my stomach and blood in my veins, so why am I complaining? Because when you have all these things, you're not happy... not truly anyway. There's always something you want more..

For me? I want to be accepted..

Not by anyone in particular, but by myself.