Me, at young age was very out of style. Not only my appearance but because my home life was different and I was already struggling. None of my friends were struggling the way I was. With mom gone drinking, dad working and being home alone with my sisters or my grandparents are trying to stay at a friends house because I just didn't want to be home. Life is weird when it works out like that. At such a young age, I never thought I'd want to just be alone. Years later things have gotten abit better. When I was in grade 2 or 3 we moved to Thunder Bay, I believe it was so my dad could go to school? I could be wrong but I remember it being that. Living in Thunder Bay was abit different from home, but not for my mom. Again, I felt like I was different from all the other kids I went to school with. Still felt like my home life was the same. I felt like I couldn't talk to anyone. I was always told not to talk about my mom gone out drinking because we'd possibly get involved with child and family services if not only me but one of us said the wrong thing. Anyways, my point of here is, I always felt like I was different for such a long time.
Recently I started journaling and writing to myself and reading letters I never gave out to anyone. Seeing the way I would spill myself out to someone was embarrassing and sadly horrific. Reading letters saying how much I hated my home life and wanted to leave or sadly kill myself. Reading notes from myself every time I'd self harm or overdose. The dates on those notes, we so very close together. Sometimes every night or once a week. Seeing those now, I was a scary child. I scared myself reading those to know that Inwas that person. Not that it was ever a bad thing, but to me, it was bad. Writing letters to some of my teachers, mainly my principal because I trusted her with my life. I have her letters like thanking her for everything she's done for me and my sisters. Thank god for my principal. In all honesty, thanks to everyone who's helped me.
I still have a letter I wrote to myself in 2015 and I'm willing to share it with you. I'm not going to hide anything from any one you who are reading this book.
Hi
Today is August 3 2015. On this day 2 years ago I went to the hospital for the first time for cutting. Over the past 2 years I've been through a lot. I started running last year, lost a few friends to suicide and things have been getting out of hand with the whole cutting and hurting myself thing. I am 16 years old and I'm still living in Whitefish Bay. I leave to Barrie in a few days for treatment. But I just wanted to say how much things have changed in the last 2 years. I've been to the hospital multiple times and I really hate myself for doing that, not only to myself but everything I put my family, the cops, and everyone else who was involved through. I always thought maybe one day I'd be strong enough to maybe kill myself but we all know who that would hurt the most. My nephew and my baby sister know who I am and would always wonder where I am. Knowing that, it actually kills me so much inside because I know they'll miss me and it'll hurt me immensely knowing I will NEVER be able to hold or kiss them ever again. Not only those 2 but my whole family. I tell myself everyday that "I'm going to do it" but I know I can't because I have all these people to help me heal. Not that I'm counting on them but I'm the only one who can fix what I broke. The first day I went to the hospital for cutting was something I never expected to happen. The whole situation with the police, what I said to that person to have them get the police come to my house. I feel completely stupid about it, in fact it was stupid of me to do that. Knowing who that person worked for and what he had to do. I'm honestly stupid. I went in again, and again and again and again. It never stopped. It always happened, every week. In 2013 I cut every night, sometimes I wish I can go back to those days but I can't. I have to try keep moving forward. A police officer came by today as well. I let her know a few days ago that I was heading to Barrie for treatment for a few months. She came by and talked to me for a few minutes just to check in. Before she left she gave me a hug. I really love this cop. I mean I know I've made her job hectic but she's a really great person. I'm kind of sad to have gain this great relationship and just leave. Hopefully I'll be in contact with her when I go to Barrie for a few months. I know I need help but when I get help, I don't open up enough about what's bothering me or what I think I need help with. I really hate that about myself. So when I go to Barrie, I hope this will be the last treatment thing I'll need for myself because I'm getting tired of doing it but I know it's also good for me to try and figure things out for myself. Anyways, it's almost 11:30 and I gotta get ready to go see a few friends before I leave and maybe walk around with them for abit. Not like I have a whole lot of friends, but let's just see who I find. HAHA! So yeah."
I know this letter doesn't say a whole lot of things but it's just something I wanted to put in here. I have journal entries from when I first started cutting, when I first went to the hospital and just nights I hurt myself. Which makes me sad because I read them now and think things actually weren't that hard, I just made them hard.
I always look back to 2013. I thought that was the hardest year I've been through. The year I started self harming. I can never get that day out of my head, it was like as if it was traumatic. I don't know if I would call it traumatic, maybe like a scary, eye opening experience. I started talking to my first counselor that year a few days later I went to the hospital. I had many people involved with me that year and 2014. I talked to my counselor for maybe almost 3 years. She helped me a lot with a whole lot of different things. She was really good at what she did. Of course I wasn't only talking to her, I was talking to a few other local people as well. I've had so many gray counselors but I really enjoyed talking to 2. The second counselor I had that was great she scared me. Not in a peek a boo kind of scare but she scared me because she knew how it felt to go through addiction and experiencing how life was on the reserve and dealing with many of the same things I did. I really did enjoy her. She always told me "we crossed each others pass for a reason" and I totally agreed with her on that. In fact she told me a lot of things that I totally agreed on with her. She was great with her choice of words, her scenarios, and her feedback on everything, no matter how easy or blunt she said it, those were words I needed to hear. For awhile, people were sugar coating everything, making certain things seem simple or just not really paying attention to what I had to say. I'm not going to lie, I was a pretty hard person to deal with, it became an everyday thing where I'd spill myself out on people. But this one counselor she didn't do any of that, she said it as it was.
