...why, oh why?...
I got a lot of messages asking what makes me so unhappy and
why I'm doing this...
Background of my Life (real quick though cos I don't wanna
I've been depressed all of my life....at some point I
started playing with ways to make me feel better...shit I
saw off t.v like annorexia and all that other self-
Annorexia came first....and that lasted only a
year....because the one thing in my life (a "friend") that
pretty much caused it left. I ballooned back to my original
size and then some....
So blah...things were fine for a while...
My grandparents suddenly began getting abusive....very
Threats and hate lingered around my household and I began
to get reclusive and suicidal.
To add to that my mom had gotten into a new relationship.
Because of how abusive my grandparents were to her and me
(we were also somewhat poor and could not move out) she was
always at Bobs house and virtually never home...on holidays
I have issues with father figures since mine left me and I
was always convinced that my father had found another
family. The fact that my mother had her very own perfect
family with Bob and his kids, and she left me home with the
abuse...did not help. Obviously.
So...soon as the abuse started I cried everyday and stayed
online all day long....dabbled in different areas of
spirituallity to make myself feel better as well.
That didn't work...my mother was spending less and less
time at home...the house was horribly dirty and smelly and
the only solace I had was online.
I started to cut.
At first it did nothing for me....but I liked to brag about
it....I would go to school and show my friends...
Some of them were quite amused with it.
Then I started crying and stabing myself with pencils in
The friends dropped like flies. Sheer fear.
And I don't blame them.
Life went on with the abuse and more and more holidays
spent alone with my tears....everyday I cut and
cut...sometimes even twice a day. But always before bed so
my anxiety would go away.
One day cutting wasn't enough.
I graduated to hitting my arm against the corner of a wall
and pressing on the bruise till the pain went away....
Still the friends left, my anxiety grew, and almost nothing
could keep my suicidal thoughts away.
I took a bunch of pills and layed there staring at the wall.
Spent the next day naucious and sleepy...nothing really bad.
One day my one "friend" decided to tell people I was insane
and cut myself and all that shit.
I went to her house and told the bitch off....but she was
too afraid to come outside and face me. Neadless to say she
shut the fuck up.
But the damage had been done.
I stopped going to school every week...when I did go I did
nothing because I was convinced everyone was staring at me
and looking for these cuts.
At that point I had gone from proud of them to embarrassed
So I got left back....
During the summer my grandfather died and my grandmother
was moved into a nursing home.
My depression was still there and I still cut...only to
stop the visions of suicide.
My mother took me to a pychologist and things got better.
I ended up still not going to school because I was still
convinced people saw the cuts through my clothes so I
dropped out and am getting my GeD.
Things got better, obviously, without the abuse...my mom is
home a lot more often...and I only cut once a month now.
I don't know why I cut now...I still have the anxiety and
sometimes I can't even leave my house because I think
people everywhere hate me and are going to hurt me.
I have to be forced outside if I want to go anywhere.
Cutting will never go away for me though because I survived
on it once. I wouldn't be here today without it.
I will probably cut for the rest of my life.
And that, dear readers...is the incomplere story of why I'm
the way I am
"You think you're special...ya do. I can see it in your
eyes. When you laugh at me...look down on me..."