You're Definitely Not Invisible

My name is Kortney Smith and I am a survivor. Growing up, I was a happy child- always smiling, and still to this day; my smile hardly ever leaves my face. Two years ago, I had jaw surgery… I remember the doctors told me not to smile right away because it’d hurt, But right when I opened my eyes… I smiled. Every smile has a story behind it. & this is my story.

On July 17th 2009, I was spending the night at my best friend’s house that I consider my sister because we were inseparable, we were sitting on the couch watching her mom’s favourite show; wheel of fortune and I just I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I came out to my best friend, and her mother. I was scared they weren’t going to like me anymore, or accept me because of who I truly was.

It was a commercial and I said “I have something to tell you” I put my head down, and said “I like girls” and I remember as I looked up, I saw her mom looking at me, and she smiled and said “No matter who you like; girls or guys; I’d never treat you any less because you are who you are; and you are amazing” It felt like a weight lifted off my chest, and that I was finally free to who I truly was. I started dating a girl the next day, I hid it from my family for 6 months because I knew they were going to say “it’s just a phase” but it wasn’t.. it’s who I was. On my first day of grade 10; it was French class, I was so excited because my best friends, my girlfriend at the time were all in my class, and French was also my favourite. I walked into the class and sat down. I opened up my books and waited for the class to start. Then… a group of guys that I despised because they made my first year of high school hell, walked into the class. One of them came up to me and my girlfriend and said “So how’s the lesbian couple, and said Did you know kortney’s a lesbian?” to the entire class. No one knew I was gay, because I was scared of the treatment I was going to get. I was scared I was going to get picked on because I liked girls. I shrunk into my seat, and my teacher looked at me, and grinned. It’s like she knew that I was hurting. That day; I knew my life was just starting. I struggled for 14 years to come clean to myself of who I truly was, I’d look into the mirror every day telling myself

“why can’t you be normal?”

After that day… I looked in the mirror and smiled. I’m free. There was no more hiding behind closed doors anymore. I was finally able to be who I truly am. As the days went by, I started getting bullied, not just by those who were my enemies; but also those who were my “friends”. I tried my hardest to shrug it off, but it appeared everywhere. In school, on social media, and also outside school hours. It followed me everywhere; all the hate comments, all the dirty looks, and the different treatment I got from those who were around me. Its like I couldn’t catch a break. One day I woke up, and told myself… I’m going to make a difference in someone’s life. I am going to stand up for myself and others that have to be put through the same thing I am going through. I realized the only thing that you can do is smile at those who are trying to cause you pain. You can’t show that you are being brought down to your lowest. I smiled everywhere I went.

Eventually, they all gave up. They realized I was happy, and no matter what they did; nothing was able to bring me down. Grade 11 came along… I was so excited because it was a new year, new classes, new people, new/old teachers. A fresh start. A couple months into the year, I got a phone call from my best friend ( the one I mentioned earlier) she said “Mom is gone” I broke down in my mom’s arms, I thought to myself “How can someone who deserves to live a long life, be taken so young?” It just didn’t feel right. I didn’t believe it.. The day of the funeral, me and my best friend locked eyes as I was walking through the door, we ran into each-other’s arms, and just held each other as we cried in the middle of the hallway of the funeral home. We didn’t let go.

The moment I saw her in the casket. I knew my life was going to be different. She was my mom and she was gone. A part of me was gone. Later on, I suffered from depression; I started self -harming.. when my friends saw my scars for the first time; they looked at me and said “why? You’re so happy” I looked down and said “Just because I smile doesn’t necessarily mean I am happy.” Days, Months, and years went by… I realized I’m an artist.. But instead of the type of artist that uses a canvas… my canvas was my skin. I covered myself up from head to toe, so no one was able to see that I was a weak link, that I was different from them. But one day, I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I finally went up to my mom, and told her “Mom, I‘m depressed” I was scared of what she would say, because as a mother, you want the best for your children. I was scared. She looked at me, and said “it’s because you surround yourself by depressing people” She didn’t understand. No one did. My friends were happy all the time, it’s like nothing ever went bad in their lives. I constantly felt as if I was the one bringing negativity to everyone that was around me. One day I woke up, and it got worse. I cried out for help from my friends, but no one was there. No one understood. I started harming myself more and more as the time went by. I broke down.

I remember; walking downstairs and going up to my mom with tears running down my face, she asked me what was wrong. I looked her dead in the eye, and said “I need help” as I pulled down my pants, I had cuts, scars and blood dripping down my legs. I felt worthless, alone, and like I wasn’t supposed to be here anymore. I was tired of feeling that. She sat me down, and she said “you don’t have to do this for attention” It hurt even more. It felt as if no one understood me, not even my own mother. As the days went by, she started asking more questions so she could understand why I feel the way I do, why I’m depressed, and why I hurt myself. I told her; its not that I want to be depressed, or hurt myself.. I do it because it feels like it’s the only thing that I can do to make me feel better.

Every time I see blood drip down me, it feels as if all the negativity or the “demons” inside me are escaping and I can finally be free. It took me years to get help, it took years to come clean about my depression; my addiction to harming, and of course… my true self. Mental illness’ aren’t always shown. It’s not easy to admit that you need help, or that you’re different from the person sitting next you, or the person that you walk by in the streets. It’s not always easy. People cry out for help every day and no one ever takes the time to hear what they have to say, or to even help or consider helping. A pat on the back, a hug or even just saying “You’ll be okay” can go a long way.

They say “Never judge a book by its cover” Well never judge a person by the way they may appear.

I am proud to say, I got the help I needed, I’m proud to say… I am now almost two months clean from self- harming, and I am also proud to say… I am a survivor and that I will live forever. Now let’s take a stand for those who suffer from a mental illness, and those we have lost that couldn’t fight their battle any longer. This one is for you. You are not alone and you are definitely not invisible. Thank you.