The following testimonial is anonymous.
Name and age were changed, the text was largely adopted.

Thanks for the trust and courage.

Trigger Warning


my name is Marina I am 16 years old and a student. Until then, it was actually a normal life for a young person, wasn’t it?
Well I’ll start from the beginning. At the age of five and before, people gave me funny looks as soon as I opened my mouth. I used to say “Tetterling” instead of butterfly. I just couldn’t get a meaningful sentence out of my mouth.
In kindergarten, I drew attention to myself for the first time and was therefore also rejected. A “friend” of mine didn’t want to meet me because she didn’t want to meet someone who was speech-impaired. I have suppressed my anger and disappointment.

In my opinion, there was no place in life for my feelings and thoughts. I didn’t even know how to talk about it because I just didn’t learn it. In my family, I’m the sandwich child. My big sister has diabetes and my little brother, well, he has his problems too. I just didn’t want to come up with my problems.
When I started school, I went to a special language school. It was a complete fresh start for me as I didn’t know anyone. I quickly found myself and felt at home in my class. I could always speak better. After the second grade I switched to another elementary school. I was only there for one school year. Today I hardly remember how I felt there.

After the third grade, my family and I moved near Karlsruhe. Before that I lived in Berlin. I was in fourth grade there. My grades dropped and I just felt uncomfortable in my new class
I didn’t even notice the problem at all and convinced myself that everything would be okay. In class there was some kind of teasing every day. My classmates kept telling me what I was doing wrong.
Luckily I had a very attentive class teacher in my class. She noticed that I was extremely uncomfortable. She talked to my parents and I was demoted to third grade. I fought back because I didn’t want this, but finally I gave in. My new class was a very nice class. But my first trust problems started.

A couple of friends from Berlin grew more and more distant from me. I am no longer in contact with anyone. They avoided me when I was in Berlin. I got too caught up in my past with my head and just didn’t give my new environment a chance to prove itself.
After fourth grade I went to high school. Fifth and sixth grade passed. But from the seventh grade it only went down. At that time we were on a school trip to the North Sea. Actually, it would have been really nice to have stayed the way everything was.

Aufmerksamkeit kann Leben retten - Trauriges Mädchen
Aufmerksamkeit kann Leben retten - Trauriges Mädchen

My best friend turned away from me. I felt alone To this day I don’t know what caused it. Maybe it was because of one classmate who was probably more suitable as a friend than me… I was just feeling bad. The pain started. Little did I know then that this was the beginning of a long ordeal. My psyche tormented me with neck pain and headaches. In addition, I just had my annoying menstrual pain. For most of the class trip, I just crept into my room and watched our friendship fall apart.

From then on, the pain accompanied me almost every day. At first I was still looking for the causes, but at some point I gave up. Numerous doctor visits followed. An orthopedist said my pain was psychosomatic. I felt rejected and from that point on I thought I was imagining it all. A teacher of mine once asked me if something was bothering me. He was the first to suspect.
But what should I say that I feel empty and weak? I’ve been looking for a reason why I’m feeling so bad. I thought I needed a reason. Little by little, I stopped mentioning my pain and made it up to myself.

Months went by and I got progressively worse. I used to cry myself to sleep at night. I lost motivation. My appetite dwindled more and more. My grades kept getting worse. I could barely concentrate, my attention dropped. And I started hurting myself.
Math has always been my favorite subject. My teacher only knew me as one and two students. On the next job, however, I got a four. My teacher was concerned. He was the only one who noticed that I was feeling bad and who spoke to me about it. It was the teacher who was the first to voice the suspicion about my psyche. I told him I was still in pain. A few conversations with him followed.

It was one afternoon…
I’ve had suicidal thoughts for a long time. I had set a date and already knew exactly how I wanted to go about it. We had had afternoon classes with the teacher that day. I was still briefly on the toilet and locked myself in and just cried. I sat there a little longer with a friend, I wanted to convince myself that there was certainly nothing left to keep me alive.
Teacher saw me and addressed me carefully. At that moment I became aware. I can’t end my life until I’ve tried everything. Further discussions with the teacher followed. At the end of the school year I sat with the school social worker. I still hadn’t told anything about the negative thoughts. I don’t know what slowed me down. My hope disappeared again.

A short time later I felt like I was on my own again and made a plan again. In February 2020 I wrote my farewell letter.
One night I heard my mother cry. I went to her and didn’t know why. I went back to my room. My father came in and put the letter next to me. Everything was blown. My parents found him. I didn’t sleep that night. My mother slept with me. I think she was afraid that I would do something to myself. I mean, that was understandable. The next day I didn’t go to school.
My parents took me to a clinic in the acute care unit. I stayed at home exactly one week later and then the 1st lockdown began. I just lay in bed most of the time. I had an appointment with a therapist about once a month. She hardly made any time for me.

The inpatient stay began in July. I was diagnosed with a major depressive episode, somatization disorder and social phobia. I didn’t care about the terms, I only wanted one thing and that was for things to get better. And eventually it was. In November we went back home.
I’m not the person I used to be, but maybe I don’t want to be that either. I have learned to deal with my feelings and thoughts. There are still days when I think I don’t want anymore. But now I know that there is always another way out than suicide.
I thanked my teacher. I’m glad there are people like that. I know that he saved my life that day. The fight against my illnesses is still going on, but I know it’s worth it.

I want to live!


My name is Chris and I created Slowlow Lobster.
I write posts about mental illness. Topics that affect me personally, but also topics that contribute to clarification and the end of stigmatization.