I tried to cut it from my mind. The permanent scars that reminded me of how useless I was. That was the only thing I saw on me which made me feel even more disgusted with how I was. I tried looking out for some way to get out to look for some happiness but blindness overcame it. I was 15... 15 years old. What a waste of a life, I wouldn’t even call it a life, not worth living it. I was never strong physically, nor mentally how I wish I was. People started to notice with that being other student or teachers they all new but I guess they were to afraid to say anything. A friend came up to me one day, she told me my eyes were gleaming. I said I was tired, tired of everything. How much I craved for how it used to be, how happy we was. But I pushed her to far, just like I did with everyone else. Maybe it was because of what I went through, that I did that. Seeing her fake smile trying to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. But everything had changed.
I hated how I was. I used to look in the mirror and be disgusted with what I saw. Then I read the magazines with the woman with bleach blond hair, fake boobs and size 6 waist. In my opinion that isn’t pretty but I bet they got 1000 more affection and love than I ever did and I would do anything to get just a glimpse of that.
I had no one. I didn't even have a family. My mum passed away with breast cancer when I was 10. I miss her so much. A day never went by without me thinking of her and wishing she was here with me, I couldn't do it without her. My dad. Well. I didn't even class him as my dad. I could have made excuses of what happened, that he was mourning over my dead mother, his wife but that doesn’t even come to close to what he did. Maybe it was because he lost it and he couldn’t cope with the loss of mum. Maybe that was his way of dealing with his emotions, similar to how I dealt with mine.
Night after night he would come back from the local pub, I waited for him as I knew what was coming so I prepared myself, braced myself for what was coming. His footsteps getting louder and louder until they were right outside my door. Then the door opened ever so slowly to drag it out more then he was there. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air leaving a vile taste in the back of my throat. I couldn't even begin to tell you the excruciating he was with me. I will spare you the gory details, but I think you guys get the picture. He took advantage of his own flesh and blood. I will never understand why he did what he did, its beyond me.
The Scissors.
The Razors.
The Hair Grips.
Anything I could get my hands on that would do damage to my skin. In some sick way they we're my “friends” as they helped me release some kind of emotions, maybe this was my way of dealing with it. Everywhere I turned abuse was thrown at me. Then came the struggle of hiding them. The eye catching bruises, the never ending scars. In school the constant bullying being called names like “emo”, “freak”. I had no one, I couldn’t talk to anyone any more.
But if one day someone reads this, it is really a message for anyone who is going through anything like I did. It is not right and its not normal. Don’t do what I did the first time is like poison , once you've started there’s no going back. Don’t end up like me, whatever you do. You do have someone that cares for you and loves you, no matter how impossible it seems right now. I know this sounds stupid but can you place you hand on the left side of your chest. Feel that?
That's the reason you are here.
That's your reason to live.
From Unknown
