"LANA GO NOW!!"
I wake up to my grandpa shaking me.
"Lana, it's alright-it was just a nightmare."
I rub my eyes of the bad memories and look out the window.
It's still pitch dark out there.
"Grampa I'm sorry I woke you up, I really am."
Grandpa looks at me with eyes pure of goodness and kindness.
"No need to apologize, I was already up, I had to pee."
"Thanks for the info." I smile big at this wonderful man.
"Go back to sleep sweetie." he leaves and closes the door behind him.
I flop back into bed and stare at the ceiling.
How did I end up here?
I thought I was good, I never did anything disobedient.
But then again, I think I deserve it.
This is all my fault.
If I didn't provoke him,
Maybe it would have been different.
At some point I'm up and I walk outside.
I am fuming and I need to thrash.
I go directly to the wall and punch it
I hate this,
punch
I hate that I'm here,
punch
I hate that I'm a burden to my grandpa,
punch
Punch after punch, my knuckles start to get sore-
but that doesn't stop me.
I now hit the wall with my whole arm, hand, forearm, elbow, even my shoulder.
I do this to each arm and feel my anger slowly fizzle down, even though I am still furious.
I sit with my back against the wall.
I examine my arm and see it swelling a tad with a splurges of reddish-purple colors.
Truthfully, I like it.
It triggers memories.
How wonderful.
Once again, I continue to punch the wall over, and over, and over again.
I could get used to this.
God please take me away from this life I'm living...
/\|/\|/\|
That day changed my life.
It was the first time I hurt myself,
the first of many times to come.
I realized I have not properly introduced myself, I am Lana Ryan, I suffer from Chronic Major Depression and PTSD.
I am seventeen.
Eight months ago my father beat me and I escaped.
Seven months ago I started self-harming by bruising myself.
Six and half months ago I started burning myself.
Five months ago I finally started cutting my stomach and upper thighs.
Today, my life is hell.
All I want to do is die.
Welcome to my world.
\/|/\|/\|
I wake up and stumble out of bed, another day of agony, I mean school.
I throw on a pair of black skinny jeans with my Docs and a random flannel.
I look at the mirror.
Why was I cursed with this body and face?
My nose is screwed up, my hair is always messy, my ears stick out.
I look away and rush to my Box.
My Box, the Box to be exact, is where I keep my razors and my bobby pins to burn myself. It also has my journal and memorabilia of my mom; a jewelry box. Engraved on the rim of it it reads;
Bear the chaos
Oh mother if it was that easy...
I pull out my razor and tug my shirt up.
here we go.
A slice here, a slit there.
The blood trickles out slowly and I sit and watch it.
My wrist goes a bit numb and I feel more relaxed.
I clean up the area and stop at the door.
I look around carefully to make sure no blood has gotten anywhere and I sigh.
Simply stressful.
Hey fam don't forget to vote and to keep reading it really helps me a lot by somehow motivating me.
All the love, S
