the days i was dying

two : added pressures

☆。* I "don't know" why I started. More importantly, I don't know why I kept going.。☆。

trigger warning // self harm, addiction, psychotic breaks

Once the self harming began, it evolved into a more effective coping mechanism. I claim I don't know why I started. That was true, until recently. I processed the fact that I was mad at myself and that's why I would. Sometimes it still is. Over that feeling however, is the craving to get out of my head while the blade slices my skin. I'm starting to think I have an addictive personality.

It got better and worse over and over. I guess I was comfortable in square one. I still am. I'm scared of stepping over my own boundaries, exiting my comfort zone. 

Self harm wasn't the only addiction I was going to encounter in my lifetime.

I was attending an alternative school in 8th grade. All I can really disclose is that I said some questionable 'jokes' that ended with serious consequences. I had been expelled. (authors note : keep this in mind.)

My dad had this girlfriend, though. (author's note/story note: we're going to call her Marissa. I wouldn't name drop like that anyone from a traumatic point of my life like that online.) She was a dream at first. She came to Florida with us shortly after meeting. She was so beautiful, nurturing and treated my sister and I with respect, as we did with her. However, the ball started rolling too fast in terms of my dad and hers relationship. Marissa moved in within a couple of months after the Florida trip, I believe. I wouldn't be able to pinpoint an exact amount of time between the trip, which may have been in October, but I am almost positive she was moving in around Christmas.  Naturally, moving in within a few months of dating a person is not ideal. There are some things that they keep concealed. It's much harder to conceal something from someone you live with.

As I have mentioned, my dad has a drinking problem. Since then, it has de-escalated. However, his girlfriend, who was on mood stabilizers and antidepressants, would witness this behavior. My dad claims that he knew about the medication. I'm not sure why he allowed himself to drink in the presence of someone so vulnerable to that kind of addiction.  In addition, though, people who take some sort of mental illness related medication must already know where I'm going with this, and how terrible it can be to either be in the position of doing or watching.

Anyhow, Marissa began to drink as well. That's where I was going. To elaborate, alcohol and these sorts of medications don't synthesize. As a result of that, she would have this trauma-inducing breakdowns and outbursts. A psychotic break. She had trouble thinking logically. She would drink when my dad drank, then get mad at him, and then do terrible things. She claimed that it was because he would drink too much, neglect her and their relationship, and that the episodes and incidences had nothing to do with alcohol. I have a hard time believing this. However, that wasn't the only reason for these kinds of outbursts. One was completely my fault.

I had gotten my phone taken as a consequence of the expulsion. Once, I used my sister's phone to text my friend group, and tell the three of them that I missed them, and we needed to find a way to reconnect. I had gotten caught, sister in front of me, her phone in my hand. My dad tried to take it and we started fighting. My dad is a somewhat civil person. He doesn't raise his voice often, nor does he interrupt frequently. Of course, I was the one who looked like I was going apeshit, yelling at my dad to not take my sister's phone from her. She interrupts my dad and I,  trying to tell me that I'm crazy and that I was wrong. Although I have a hard time admitting that I'm wrong, I doubt that this situation was one where I was messing up. 

To summarize the rest, I had to go to my mom's house to remove myself from the incident. She was telling me to kill myself, and screaming my name outside when I fled the house.

I'm scared she'll be back.