I was diagnosed with depression when I was 15. Everything just came to a head. I'd had a difficult childhood, suffering physical and emotional abuse from a family member.

I'd sleep for hours on end, then wake up feeling sick in the morning. My appetite disappeared. I just couldn't stop crying. All I wanted to do was curl up into a ball in bed. I started to suffer panic attacks.

My mum dragged me to the doctor, who diagnosed depression and put me on a course of anti-depressants. I started counselling and psychotherapy. I confided in a school friend, someone I thought I could trust, but she told everyone. Then the taunts started: "Nut case", "psycho", "mental case".

My grades slipped. I'd been an A* student, but I'd lost interest in everything. I missed a lot of school. I found it difficult to make friends. My parents were separated and my mum worked to make ends meet, so my brother and I spent weekends away with our grandparents. I missed out on all the parties, all the usual things teenagers do. One friend, who had the perfect family set up, stopped seeing me because her mum thought I was "damaged".

Somehow I passed my GCSEs with good grades and started a childcare course at college. At first it was great, an opportunity for a fresh start, with people who didn't know about my past. I was also holding down a part-time job in a shop. Eighteen months into the course, everything began to get on top of me. I suffered a nervous breakdown.

I just came to a halt. I stopped eating. I was in bed for days. I was either completely silent or sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't leave the house for nearly five months. I tried to, but even the thought of going to the corner shop, two minutes away, sent me into a panic. Eventually, my mum persuaded me to see the doctor, who upped my medication.

Things began to settle down, so I went back to college, started A-levels and another part-time job in a supermarket. A few months in, it all started again. I suffered another nervous breakdown and stopped going to college. Luckily, I had really supportive tutors at college. Even though I'd dropped out of my courses, they kept in touch by email and encouraged me to go in to college. All the time, they were gently trying to persuade me to go back. My tutors never gave up on me. That meant so much.

Last September I started back at college to do A-level IT in one year. Then my tutor told me an opening had come up for a learning support assistant (LSA) and encouraged me to apply. Since October, I've been working as an LSA two days a week alongside my studies. I work with students with a range of learning difficulties, including those with mental health issues. There is so much misunderstanding about mental health. I am passionate about trying to change that. I am now training to teach on work-based learning courses, achieving my childhood dream of being a teacher.

It feels like a miracle that I am still here. At my worst, I looked into the future and saw nothing. I just wanted to disintegrate, to disappear. I still have dips, but now I am stronger. I now have the confidence to ride through the bad times.

· Emily Persaud is a learning support assistant at New College, Swindon