Disorderly.

Chapter One: Stumbling Through My Life.

Chapter One: Stumbling Through My Life.

I don't know how it happened. I wasn't abused, or born with it. It just, sort of, built up around me. One second, I'd be in one place, and in the next moment, I'd transform into a whole different person. The first time it really kicked in, my Mum thought I had multiple personality disorder, or whatever they call it now. I was 14, and at my best-friend's party. Her parents were away on business a lot, and her "few friends over on the weekend" had progressed into a riot of drinking, drugs, sex and moronic attention seeking, but I'd agreed  to go, telling myself it was to keep an eye on her.

I suppose that's why everyone was shocked when I arrived at the party already blind drunk, in clothing not even a prostitute would find concealing. I dont remember much of the night, but I was told early the next morning, that the raging headache and overwhelming aggression and desolation building inside of me, was infact a hangover. I should have known though, that this was so much more.

My depression went on for days. I constantly visualised hurting myself, thinking how much easier it would be. I could avoid embarrassment,  skip high school, and just end it now; but i think as my emotions grew darker, my other best-friend Tristan and I became closer. We we're practically inseparable after only two weeks. My Dad was not pleased that Tristan constantly stayed the night, but it wasn't like that. He stayed to help. To stop me hurting myself. To stop me hurting. I would cry most nights when he wasn't there, and the nights he was I would lie awake picturing myself not having to go through tomorrow. Just stopping right then. Eventually Tristan couldn't take the pressure anymore. I understood. He had a life of his own, problems and girl troubles to  solve, advice to receive, and not give. So i let him go. Then about 3 weeks into distancing myself from Tristan, I got a phone call. It wasn't life changing. Or even important. It was my Grandma. She asked how I was, and then I knew I had a problem.

 

I didn't want to see a doctor at first. I think the main  reason  for that was the mood swings. I'd go from 'kill me' stares, to 'adore me' smiles, in hours. I don't know which was worse. When  was happy, I was rebellious, drinking, smoking weed. I even did cocaine one time. I kept my virginity though. Something that surprised even me. I came really close with my third ever boyfriend once. We were at some party, I was drunk, which had become common  in the last couple of days of supposed 'happiness', and he was grinding with me on a makeshift-lounge room-dance floor. I felt him get hard beneath me, and he started kissing my neck. It could have been the alcohol, or the way he made me feel like a normal adolescent, but I went upstairs with him. As soon as we we're on our own, he pushed me against the wall, kissing me violently. His mouth trailed down my neck. He pushed us into an abandoned room, and shoved me on the bed. I wasn't thinking coherently and my fingers trailed over his shirt, tugging it off and throwing it on the carpeted floor. My hands danced over the lines of his stomach. I didn't even notice him take off my shirt and bra before he began pulling on  my jeans. They were off before I had the chance to object. Then, with some strange strength I had left in me. I abruptly pushed him off me. I don't think I ever saw him again.