Just Another Story Of Another Depressed Girl

When I Was Little

Imagine a 6 year old girl enjoining her own pain as she rubs alcohol in her open wounds, no the wounds weren't intentional and I didn't understand what I was doing then but you see I have always liked the tinge of pain laced through parts of my life especially in the saddest moments. As I grew up a bit older kids around me at school started talking about suicide wondering what it was, well I asked they told me that it was something people do when they are unhappy with their lives, are numb to everything and are ready to die, I still didn't understand as a small 5th grader with long beautiful hair, you may be asking why did I put emphasis on my hair because later on in that next year I chopped off nearly all of it and that's where all my troubles began

It's the day before school in my 6th grade year so close to middle school, so close to graduating, and I decided to get my mom to chop off my long blonde hair all the way into a boy cut, I thought it was cute at the time, but I guess I was wrong

I walk into class the next morning and I'm being stared at, people start snickering then I hear it in a hushed voice "she looks like a Dyke" at the time I already knew what that meant but I kept my cool and brushed it off, but I shouldn't have, I should have said something, I should have stopped it, but I didn't people started calling me a boy, a dyke, and a lesbian I started to cry every night when I got home. I remember one specific day somebody pushed me in the hall, ran and yelled stupid boy when I got home that night I cut myself with a kitchen knife but it looked like I stuck my arm in briars so that's what I told everyone but each day that someone told me how stupid or how ugly I was I'd go home and cut, like with a book or a show series just one more, just one more cut
Over the next 2 years it got better then worse again, just a roller coaster my 9th grade year is where it continues, but with a couple twist