The emotions I experienced while binge-watching the first 13 episodes of this Netflix series are unparalleled. A show I deliberately ignored for months on end turned out to be one of the most touching stories I have ever heard. Hear me out as I give my brief take on the first season of “13 Reasons Why.”

SPOILER ALERT — I can not very well give my take unless I am explaining some details of the show. So if you have not seen it yet, and you are planning to watch it soon, tread carefully from this point on.

Let me start by saying a small part of me died with Hannah Baker during the last episode of the show. I cried for several minutes as she put an end to the war that culminated internally; how it must have felt to be so low and see no light at the end of the tunnel. Some aspects of her hopelessness were familiar.

In middle school and high school, I was bullied. The bullying I suffered in high school was much less blatant and much shorter-lived than the bullying I endured in middle school. This always seemed odd to me considering I had several more friends in middle school than I did in high school. In high school, people would make quiet remarks about my weight as I would walk down the hall. I would hear laughter follow shortly after, and besides the sick feeling I would get in the pit of my stomach, that was usually the end of it. I was pretty invisible in high school, but having come from a situation much worse in middle school, this was not something I would complain about. I appreciated the break– the opportunity to go unnoticed. Sure there were days where I would eat lunch in the bathroom or take long walks around the three-school campus instead of eating because I had no friends, but this beat the blatant torment I had suffered in middle school by a large margin.

In middle school, I had my small “clique.” If it were not for this handful of wonderful individuals who shared much in common with me, I am not sure I would have made it out so unscathed. Between the 6th and 8th grades, I had been crowned “fattest girl in school” on a voting Myspace page created by one of my best friends, I had been called “Rasputia” — an obese, African-American character from the movie “Norbit”– to my face, I had been pointed at and laughed at, I had boys I liked making jokes about how cute they thought I was, and I had been called almost every derogatory, weight-related term imaginable. I don’t think I ever even cried. I could never bring myself to. The second I told myself that the things these people were saying to me were getting to me would be the end of it all. With so much time left in school, I could not afford to be counted out just yet. I could talk all day about some of the things I went through, like getting “catfished” by my friends and nearly beat up for asking one of my attackers to give me back my assigned seat, but this story is not really about me– it’s about Hannah.

As the show progressed and I got to know Hannah, I recognized that she was just a young girl trying to have fun and be accepted just like me. Some could argue that she put herself in a few of the situations that ended up going sour, but as teenagers we all make mistakes. Why did they choose to treat her like that? Hannah wanted friendship; she wanted romance; she wanted to hang out with friends and go to parties. Instead, Hannah was given torment, cold-shoulders, and betrayal. Yes, this story is perhaps a weak portrayal of the life a suicide victim may live, but these things do happen to people, ten times worse than it appears on TV, and it is not something everyone can beat.

I watched Hannah get bullied, shunned, bad-mouthed, and assaulted. Although I am fortunate to have never been physically violated by any of my attackers, I felt as though I was reliving all those years of middle school all over again. I never even dared to tell my parents how bad the bullying was. To this day I do not know why I never reached out to them. I guess I thought I could handle it all myself. Even now I want to cry for that little 13-year-old girl who just wanted to have fun, tell jokes, and have a good time. Why didn’t I get her any help?

Had I not been strong enough to overcome my teenage woes, I could have been a Hannah Baker; that is what scares me most. Had God not beaten, molded, and shaped me into the courageous, fierce, and robust individual I am today and have always been, I could have been in Hannah Baker’s shoes. As I watched her go home in episode 13, fill up the bathtub, and hop in, tears began to well up in my eyes. She grabbed the razor that she had purchased shortly before and proceeded to slash both of her wrists, producing deep cuts that began bleeding profusely. She cried out in pain, and my tears started to flow faster. My heart pounded as Hannah’s body struggled to fight for the last few moments she would have. Finally, when Hannah was gone, I broke into a full meltdown. I had not even thought about my personal experiences up to this point. All of my sorrows were for how Hannah’s life had ended that day. If I could have just been there to shield her from some of it, knowing I could take it; what difference could that have made?

Once I got myself together, I realized that to this day, I am not the most wonderful person. I still laugh sometimes when I should not, I may even say some things to people that I should not, and I still sometimes behave in ways that may be affecting others negatively. It makes me wonder how many Hannah Baker’s may have needed someone, while I gave them nothing. How many Hannah Baker’s might I been able to save, but did not because of this? I immediately took to Facebook to declare what it is I had just learned. I could not stand to witness another life become lost when there may be something I or others I know could be doing to stop it.

“13 Reasons Why” was a very relatable story for me, one I would struggle to forget. Sometimes, for God to get through He has to put something in front of you that will grab your attention. Although Hannah may be a fictional character, her story is genuine, and I will continue to be a voice for not only her and the millions of people suffering the same fate as her, but also for that little 13-year-old girl who could not raise her voice when she needed to the most. Join me in being a part of the solution rather than a cause of the problem and support the efforts to raise awareness of suicide and advocate for suicide prevention. If you or anyone you know is suffering from suicidal thoughts, please visit https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ or call 1-800-273-8255 to speak to someone who would love to listen to you, knows what you are going through, and can help you.