A tough life. Each day is constant torture. One major thing that keeps me on this earth is my boyfriend. With my boyfriend I can start to undo my mistakes and move on with better choices.
Constant stares. Snickers my way. Being pushed around and bullied for being me. That was and still is my life. Now it doesn't bother me as much anymore. But back then, that was a different story. The blade would cut deeper into my skin each time I was made fun if. The scars still mark my skin. Words like die, worthless, ugly, trash, and unloved are forever branded on me. Like battle wounds, they don't go away, they remind you of the hard times.
People would make fun of me for being bisexual and being friends with the "freaks of nature". Each day I would cry my heart out. My parents never noticed. Not even when I would cry to sleep and wake up piercing the air with my terrifying screams. I may not have the worst life at home, but that was only a fraction of a reason of why I started to cut, why I wanted to end the torture. The blade would slice my skin over and over as the blood would drip and form small puddles. I would start to see black and stop. I would stop so I would have to live with the guilt and pain of harming myself.
Loser would be coughed under their breath, die right next to my face, unloved and forever alone spit at me. Each word that escaped their dirty lips would break me more and more until I was a pile of shattered glass.
I won't lie and say I've never thought of committing suicide. I have. I've even attempted it. But I chose slicing and dicing over ending it all. Either way it was still the wrong choice. I even went to drinking for a while. I never touched drugs though it has crossed my mind. Times got rough and I wanted to forget. But eventually I just became numb all together once my dog passed away.
When my dog passed away I promised I her i wouldn't cut. I lasted about a month but couldn't handle life without her and i needed something to remind me that i was alive. She meant everything to me. But I couldn't handle the pain of losing her. The cutting was deeper. I stopped drinking though. I didn't want to forget how others and I made myself feel any longer.
I was wasting away into nothing. I ate less. I cut more. I would cut my arms and thighs but then i started on my sides. I didn't clean my wounds like i used to. I almost got an infection but one of my friends always has a first aid kit so he bandaged me up a few times. His brother also kept an eye on me. I'm best friends with both of them. They knew they couldn't stop me from doing it but every chance they got they would tell me how much they cared for me and how much they didn't want to lose me because I was like a sister to them.
Not that long ago I came across a guy. He wanted to end his life. He felt like he wasn't important and that nobody cared about him. Exactly how I felt. Somehow that shocked me back to life and even though I didn't know him I couldn't lose him. So I talked to him. I told him how even though we haven't talked before I still cared for him. At first he was mad. Then he was sorry for being mad at me and wanted to be friends. Of course I said that I wanted to. And a week or so after that we got together.
I've been happier. I smile and laugh so much now that I might burst. He brings me confidence and joy. There is no way I can express how much he has helped and and how much I love him. He is now my everything. <3
