❤️I promise it ends happy❤️
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️
I remember when I was about 8-10 I used to get upset and cry a lot. I would always tell myself that no one loves me, I'd look in the mirror and call myself ugly because I felt it was the right thing to do. Yes.. I did this at only 10 years old.
I didn't think anything of it until just now. Now that I look back on it... it's really fucked up. No little kid should be doing something like that. Looking back on it, I'm surprised my parents didn't catch my depression at a young age, even though it would have been hard to distinguish.
I don't really know why I did that as a child, it's hard telling. But as I've grown older I began to think these things were true about myself. I eventually caused myself to develop Manic Depression and General Anxiety Disorder.
In 7th grade it started to get bad. I remember the first time I had cut myself. I was sitting on a stool in my bathroom and had a pair of dull scissors in my hand. I don't know why I did it... I really didn't have a reason to, but I did. I remember not even cutting myself. I didn't even bleed. I took the dull scissors and scraped my skin... it didn't hurt at first.
It took about 30 minutes for me to stop, I had scraped up my thigh so bad that it would definitely scar. The aftermath wasn't pretty. I sat on the stool in my bathroom absolutely disgusted with myself.
I put the scissors down, and taped myself back together. I went to bed and that was that.
The next morning I knew I fucked up. The two wounds I had inflicted on myself BURNED. I regretted it so bad, and the worse part was.. I was in cheerleading. I had to conceal two raw sights underneath a miniskirt while doing stunts. The worse part is.. I did it over and over again.
What people don't realize about self harm is that it's an addiction and a mental disorder. Just because it's labeled as a mental disorder doesn't make you any less of a functioning human being.
My addiction got worse the farther into 7th grade. I discovered a razor and started to actually mutilate myself. It. Was. Bad. At that time I didn't do well in anything. I had stopped basing in cheer (the bottom girl who holds up the girls leg), my grades dropped to C's and D's, I slept in everyday, I ate more, I gained weight. I hated myself. I was in a living hell.
I didn't get help, I didn't tell anyone, I didn't say anything, even though my insides were boiling with rage and sadness. I wanted to leave my body so badly but at the same time be alive and I knew it wasn't possible. That's why I decided I've had enough. Everything was going to get better, my pain would be relieved, I could be in peace once and for all.
I had taken a giant bottle of ibuprofen and taken one after another after another. I had taken half of the bottle and decided that I was contempt with my use. I put up the bottle back in my medicine cabinet and went to bed. In the middle of the night I woke up light headed. My stomach churned with regret and relief I just wanted it to end. In a cold sweat I sat on my bathroom floor and contemplated everything.
I stared at the toilet and forced my hand down my throat, regretting everything. Nothing came up. I started to worry, now that I was actually dying, it was scary. How funny, it seemed so peaceful but now that it was happening... I was terrified. I encountered my very first panic attack. My throat started to close shut and I couldn't think straight. My vision was blurry and I tried to blink the tears from my eyes but more kept coming. I was silently dying, I could feel my heart rate decrease from my attack and even further decrease from the medication. But then when I was scared out of my mind... my stomach felt odd. I felt heat in my throats and knees turned to jelly. Red liquid filled my line of sight.
I threw up. I was so happy, sad, and confused. I didn't know how to feel. Was that okay? My head was spinning with so many thoughts and emotions, it gave me a headache. I flushed the toilet, tied up my hair in a half-assed bun and fell asleep. I had school the next morning and I WAS NOT going to the doctor for a slip.
That day at school I was a fucking mess. Hair everywhere, no makeup and clothes that barely matched. That day, a girl named... Dessy had brought up my ex-crush and had just triggered something in me to go berserk. My anxiety had skyrocketed and I wasn't okay. After lunch period we all went to tech and everyone noticed I wasn't okay.
I didn't want anyone to notice me. I wanted to be alone. I was okay... I was okay. I'm lying. I was broken inside and out, but I didn't want people to notice... but they did. Every girl surrounded me in tech asking if I was okay, trying to be there for me. I didn't want their concern, although it was lovely to see that people tried to care. My friend... Allison tried to get me to go to the nurse and others agreed. I tried to convince them I was okay. I was far from okay.
Everyone wants to be there for you when shit gets real. Everyone wants to act like they cared before you have already done something. No one knows about what happened, everyone just thought that my anxiety was high as fuck. Not to mention that on that day, I nearly had multiple crying episodes. I had so many mood swings. The day needed in a blur.
Time skip a couple months.
I've been doing better, I've become more social and started to get closer to my already close friends. I realized that the lifestyle I was leading was unhealthy and made an effort to stop self harming myself. I haven't cut in over a month and I've been happier than I've ever been.
My mood has been overall better in every situation and my grades have improved over last semester. I've been wanting to do more things like homework and this little book thing. I've been drawing more and shared my drawings in Art Club (maybe 17-20 people) whilst my drawings are very personal. I've become a lot more confident in my makeup and what I wear. I've become a healthier weight and overcome my desire to lose the majority of it.
My life seems like it got better overnight, but it didn't. It took months to get to where I am. You can't crush an addiction in one day. You can't refill your self-esteem like water. It just doesn't work that way.
There's always a light in your tunnel. The light is never at the end of the tunnel. You just need a pick me up, I personally used YouTube and drawing as an escape. It was so tough to overcome my problems and cope with all of the little things I had I hated before.
You just need a kick in the rear end, the motivation, the spark, the lighter fluid, the gas to your engine... you get what I'm trying to explain here.
If you just need someone to say "It's going to be okay." Let me be that person, please.
Suicide is NEVER the answer. I've lost a friend to it and almost lost myself plus another in the mix. Times can get hard, and you can feel like no one is there to help you and you're a terrible person.
But you're not.
No matter what ANYONE says.
No matter what you've done, you can fix yourself for you. Not for anyone else.
You're better than this. You can save yourself from the dark abyss of your suffering and rekindle your flame. It's not going to be easy. You need to fight with all of your heart and push through the bullshit that comes your way.
Everything is going to be okay❤️
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Wow, 1,470 words!! Leave me suggestion of what I should write about. Give me a topic, if you want it to be from my life or not, happy or sad message, you get the gist. Thank you so much for 41 reads! I don't even know that many people. 😂❤️
