Since I could remember, I struggled with self harm; it
started in sixth grade and stuck ever since, I felt very alone and like I
didn’t know who I was. My bullies from the past constantly haunted me and I’ll
never forget the day that I had enough. When I was younger, I tried not to
think about the bullying, I had a handful of friends most of which were also
shunned out or even bullied, but never as much as me. I was bullied because I
was bigger, because I didn’t like the same things as other girls, because I
wasn’t as attractive, because I wasn’t as popular, because I wasn’t exactly
what society considered...acceptable, because I tried to fit in too much. I
couldn’t help wanting to have friends, nor could I help the fact that I was an
outcast. I lied to try and be someone else, I lied so people would accept me, I
lied and soon enough, I begun to believe my own lies. I was becoming my lies. I
confound myself in guys and weed before anything and thought that if guys
accepted me then no one else really mattered, not even my own family. I thought
if all their attention was on me, I felt like if I couldn’t have the one person
I wanted, I would have every other person. I soon realized; these guys weren’t
my friends, they were using me, using me to feel me up, discreetly and allowed
them. I didn’t respect myself, I didn’t know my self-worth and they didn’t
respect me. I was smoking regularly and I was only in 7th grade, I
was allowing guys to disgrace my body...I wasn’t happy with myself though, I
wasn’t myself, somewhere along the way, through all the bullying, lies, guys
and fog, I lost myself and now I was a nobody, trying to be somebody. It took
me two years to completely destroy myself. And rebuild myself with a single
band. But, I’m not going to go into that...yet. Nor am I going to open the can
of worms that holds the guy who brought me to my knees in mercy with tears in
my eyes. I experienced what I think is too much for a girl of 12-13 years old.
When I was in 8th grade, I felt more experienced and did what I
thought was right which in the end was completely wrong. By 8th
grade, I had completely worn out the ‘L’ word and basically had no exact
emotions toward guys-or anyone at that left. Except for that one guy that
spared me no mercy and tore my heart apart in a million different directions.
He didn’t feel the same for me though so that made me mad, it made me want to
throw up in anger and it made me take my pain out on myself, I’d have break
downs and destroy my room, for no reason. My wrists were soon consumed by scars
and scratches from that cold blade that immediately turned warm once the blood
started flowing. It wasn’t enough; I had all this pent up anger toward everyone
that I couldn’t speak to anyone without spewing a million curse words at them. I
hurt my mom and all the people that mattered to me. I turned my mother against
me and life at home would get worse and worse with every argument we’d have. I
hated looking at myself in the mirror, I hated the person I saw and no matter how
deep I looked into my eyes, and concentrated on looking inside my soul, I
couldn’t find myself, my REAL self, not the monster I had made or even become over
the years. Metaphorically, my heart felt like it was gushing, the pain from the
bleeding burned and I felt nearly every scar I had inflicted on myself even
worse.
The
night I stopped, it took so much in me. I remember everything so vividly. I
locked myself in my room-after I had already torn it to shreds- with a butchers
knife and swore to myself that I had had enough, I wanted to stop right there.
I had only known about this band before, I’ve heard their music, but when I
heard this song, I found an inner strength. I know how cliché this sounds, but
this is true. I played the song over and over again, until the words really
sunk into my skull. I dropped the knife and after putting my room back
together, I cried myself to sleep. I’m proud to say that I woke up the next
morning, my wrists did look like they went through a cheese grader, but I was there,
and I felt lighter. I went to school that morning, wearing a large jacket to
hide all those cuts but I’ll never forget how and when they were pointed
out...I was hanging out with that very guy who gave me no mercy...when this
girl, she turns around and impolitely asks me...”Don’t you cut?” He heard that,
how couldn’t he of heard that? I couldn’t believe that I couldn’t keep it
together for one or two minutes I said, “I, no, it was my rabbit,” and those
next words she said tore into me...like daggers, “Ha-ha, yeah right,” I
couldn’t breath...I didn’t want to breath. I couldn’t let myself cry in front
of him, he’d surely know it was true, I shrugged it off and waited until I got
home...I watched tons of videos on the lead singer of the band’s view on self harm,
the entire band...their views on it. The words I heard, and read, stuck in my
mind and those were the words that got me through the night without self-harm.
The next couple of weeks I remember were the hardest. But, as soon as school
was out, I felt it much easier. All that struggling with me took its toll on my
grades, I repeated that year. At least I had gotten away from that girl.
Repeating
8th grade may have been the best thing that ever happened to me
because for a year, I slowed down, for a year I hardly took a blade to my
wrists, I didn’t cry, I was better, my grades only somewhat improved because
lets face it, although I was getting better mentally, I was still the same
stupid underachiever. I made more friends than any year id been in school, I
went from having two, three friends in elementary school to having several
fake, guys in my life, to having a good group of close friends. I had a close
group of friends before..But they left me and there was no way to contact each
other. I guess it was best.
Once I
moved on to 9th grade, I felt refreshed, my house caught on fire
that summer, I was in and out of the hospital, I ended up spending a week in
there and living with relatives but once I went back to school, it was like I
was reborn..Sort of. I had a much better out-look on life, I was rarely ever
hurting myself, I seemed to be getting better. Until I fucked up...one thing I
learned is...NEVER lie to your doctors about how bad your pain is. I said my
pain after my surgery (which I failed to mention) was extremely intense and they
have me, a 15 year old oxycodone. I guess I thought it was cool to be taking
these pills that made me feel so strange and numb. They immediately started to
have weird side affects and I would feel myself, literally, id twitch and be
completely out of it. I ended up giving them to a guy who was being very nice
to me; complimenting me, giving me attention, he asked for them one day and I
did, all of them, I gave him all my pills and he got into a fight with his
mom...And took them all. He didn’t die, but he could have. I got kicked out of
school, I had to take meetings for drugs, go to a drug rehab school. The school
had one class room, about 15 computers, 12 students, one window and it was
quite all day except for the 30/45 minutes we had for lunch where we were
forced into weird activities. We sat at our computers all day and did work
non-stop. I thankfully completed my program in about 2 months and was able to
go back to normal school. Those two months though, two months of only being
around 13 people including my teacher, barely speaking to anyone kinda took a
toll on me and I been came extremely anti-social and nervous around people, I
was so scared to go back to normal school, I was terrified from what I had gone
through, I was shaken up and as you can probably guess I went back into hurting
myself at full force, it was worse than ever before. I talked to my guidance
counselor and she helped me tell my mom. It was a scary thing, coming out about
this...It was painful. Her reaction was not what I wanted nor expected and her
response was to take me to go see this band that I have previously mentioned.
At that show...i handed the lead singer an envelope, inside was a letter and my
last razor.
Months
passed three to be exact and in those three months I was self-harm free. Until
December one night I was left alone and someone on the internet had sent me
hate mail and those three months, down the drain. Three months meant a lot to me when I was at
such a point in life where I couldn’t see my life moving on passed 22.
I met a
guy after that who turned my world right-side up, then left it worse than
before. He was around for about 4 months and taught me how to restrict my
feelings and pace myself, he taught me how to deal with a long-distance
relationship. And I learned I can’t handle those. But when he left I felt my
world shatter it took me not even
three minutes to find a blade and slice myself open...All over a guy. I was
ashamed. I did everything in my power to fix it, I blamed it on myself, I hardly
ate or slept properly for a while. I was worse than when I started. He
eventually crept his way out of my mind. I felt once again, lighter.
I’ve
realized...to be truly happy and light without the help of anyone else, I need
to be completely torn apart and squashed. To be truly happy, I have to find
inner peace, but right now, I’m truly happy with both the help of someone and
myself. I do feel as though I’d fall apart if he left me. I know I would.
That’s why I’ll do everything in my power to not let that happen to me this
time. I’m completely at peace with myself. I’m nearly 4 months clean of
self-harm, I’m in a great emotional place and as for my mental stability, well,
im still working on being alone, being home alone that is. If ever im by
myself, I start losing it and have bad thoughts, I have controlled my anxiety
more, and my depression and for the most part all is well...finally! I’m only a
Junior in high school.
