THE Tele is highlighting Time to Talk Day online and in print, in a bid to help break the stigma surrounding mental health matters. Our reporter Amy Shearer today shares a very personal and powerful account of the importance of speaking out.

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WHEN I chose to become a reporter, I was fuelled by a passion to uncover the untold tales of inspiring individuals who may not have ever been given a platform to share their story.

It’s been a huge privilege for me this past year to shine a light on the stories of local people; particularly those who speak out about their own struggles and act as a lifeline to those who are battling their own mental health issues.

At university, I was taught the fundamentals of journalism: the five ‘W’s’, how to interview people and how to be a fair and accurate reporter, to name just a few.

However, I learned how to be a good person with compassion and empathy not from a textbook, but through personal experience.

Many people, as a result of societal stigm,a still view those suffering from a mental illness - such as anxiety or depression - as a lost cause.

They think of someone who cannot get out their bed in the morning, who refrains from engaging in any form of social activity and who might have lost their zest for life.

Yet, what many still don’t realise is that a person can indeed be all of the above on the inside, but can present themselves as an entirely different persona on the surface.

Like a capable mother. A helpful teacher. A jolly bus driver. A compassionate doctor.

Or, in my case, a 17-year-old pupil who each day put up a front to attend school and be subjected to mental and emotional abuse.

In my last year of high school, many people would’ve looked at me and said I was someone who had it all figured out: I had been voted Head Girl, was doing well in my studies and was being commended for my work with local youth groups and charities.

Yet, halfway through sixth year I handed in my leaver’s form without a confirmed university place as the taunting, bullying and constant worrying caused my mental health to spiral out of control.

A combination of social media bullying and losing one of the most important people in my life made 2015 a year that if I were a person less resilient and without family support, could have been my last one on the planet.

The night I was voted in head girl my mum took me out for dinner to celebrate – we had lost my gran just weeks before to cancer, so my accolade was the nicest thing to have happened to our family in a long time.

Yet as I sat there my phone lit up like a firework with abuse: nasty message after nasty message flooded my screen telling me that I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t worthy of the title and I’d cheated my way into the post.

In the months that followed I dealt with hurtful rumours, broken friendships and a desire to retract into myself to prevent giving anyone a reason to say anything hurtful to me.

I tried to change who I was for the sake of others and as a result of that, lost my way.

From the age of 14 I’ve been fundraising and volunteering locally, mainly with children with disabilities.

On Friday nights when friends would head out to parties I’d be with these kids trying to give them the best quality of life I could.

It wasn’t ‘cool’ to be kind; I’m not sure if the spitefulness came from a lack of understanding, confusion or even jealousy.

People believed I had an agenda and that I was only fundraising and volunteering to make myself look good, not because I had a genuine desire to help.

I was so miserable, yet so good at hiding my feelings that I could sit in the toilet and sob, then 15 minutes later could stand up in front of a year group assembly and give a speech.

I was completely lost, and while I thankfully did not ever contemplate suicide I did turn to other coping mechanisms such as overeating then starving myself to take back control.

Everything about me changed: my colourful clothes faded to black, the fire I had inside of me to do good was extinguished and I even struggled to trust the friends I did have for fear they too would turn on me.

These issues were no secret to the wider school community either; some kind members of staff – who I now call friends – were truly a lifeline to me at that time, yet their hands were tied.

Someone at the top, who could have been instrumental in implementing change, quashed my feelings in a bid to protect their reputation and stick to the status quo.

Had more been done and issues addressed and nipped in the bud in a way that set an example, things may have had a different outcome.

One particular day I went to a member of staff in floods of tears and I was expected to sit there, in a shared office with other pupils coming and going, to confide in her with my worries.

I was presented with empty promises that things would change, yet when an ‘attempt’ at addressing the issues was made, it was carried out so poorly that it aggravated the situation and made me regret even speaking up in the first place.

All too often in schools we hear of bullying not being taken seriously. In the past years there have been stories of young people taking their own lives as a result of bullying, and the longer it isn’t addressed as a serious issue, the more likely others could suffer a similar fate.

I don’t like to say I was lucky, as being forced out of school isn’t exactly equivalent to a lottery win, but if I didn’t have those select few people to confide in, I don’t know where I’d be now.

In the years that have followed, I have spoken to some of the individuals who jumped on the bandwagon and I’ve accepted their apologies.

People can grow and change and as they gain life experience they have an opportunity to reflect and hopefully make kinder choices going forth.

I’ve also explored these past traumas with cognitive behavioural therapy and have made many life-long friends who are nothing but supportive, understanding and who encourage sharing your feelings.

I’m speaking out not because I’m still hurt by the situation, but in a bid to normalise being honest and open and reaffirm that mental health issues can occur in anyone, even those you might not expect.

While I do not allow the events of my past to define me, they are something that I have learned from and in a bizarre way, opened doors for me to greater things.

If you are a young person reading this today on Time to Talk day, or indeed anyone at all who is facing a difficult time as a result of current circumstances, I’d urge you to have a conversation with a loved one or to make use of one of the many lifeline organisations we are so lucky to have here in Inverclyde.

And if you are someone who potentially has hurt others in the past, remember it costs nothing to be kind - yet kindness is the most valuable thing of all.