Darkness - a self harm and depressed inflicted fanfic

Chapter Thirteen stooch

-Allie's P.O.V-

The thing is, no one actually told me anything about self-harm, depression or anything really. I mean I pretty much educated myself. How? Well considering as I have acess to Internet I basically started seeing a lot of people, mostly teenage girls, talk about their problem on social media. I began to see how some people, not just teenagers and not just girls, take self-harm to a whole new level. My original understanding of self-harm was just punching and self loathing but little did I know that it varies. I mean, some self-harmers cut, scratch, pull their hair out, drink, starve, do substance abuse, suicide in extreme cases and a lot more.

When I started self-harm I basically just scratched myself really hard whenever I felt like I needed a release. I don't know, it's just my way of dealing with stress. Especially at school. Around the age of 15, I became closed of to people of any age. I use to be outgoing and confident, but something inside me triggered me to drift off into the world of thunderstorms and lightning instead of sunny beach going weather.

I don't know. Mum noticed my awkwardness and how I could hardly manage to keep up a conversation, so she brought me to get tested for social anxiety. Yep. I got diagnosed with it and of course mum treated it as if I was a mental patient. What is with this facade of mental illnesses being violent? Like it really depends on what you have, I have social anxiety. I'm not a serial killer. So I began to release my stress and frustration whenever I could and whenever I needed to by scratching myself on the sides of my arms or legs.

Instagram only made it worse for me. Later on that year, around November, I started seeing that one of my closest friends self-harmed. Curious, I asked her what it was like to penetrate your skin with a metal object. She said cutting isn't as bad as what it seems, and sure enough, that encouraged me further to take self-hand to the next level. Cutting. So now I've been cutting for around 3 years (I'm 18 now remember). Although I was/is immune to the images of self-harm, it actually shocked me to discover what it was really like.

You see, self-harm truly varies from person to person. And so does the reason behind it. Sure a lot of people believe that cutters are weak or attention seeking and that they don't have any real problems. Of course there are some that do it for attention but there are a lot more who do it for an escape. You don't understand cutting unless you're a cutter. A lot of cutters -the real ones -do it and suddenly feel remorseful and sorrowful, they become ashamed over what they've done to their body, so they start covering it up. We're wearing sweats and hoodies because we're hiding out secrets; or dark and uneasy secrets, we're not cold.

The thing is, I never told Emmalie about the self-harm. I never told anyone at all. Mum didn't know. She assumed it was the cat, since that's what I told her. So it was a real shock that Alex actually picked it up. Yeah he was them, but if you use someone who cuts, someone you love, do you ask them if they did this? He did. I mean sure, people in my family did have their assumptions about the self-harm but they are assumptions, they haven't actually been confirmed.

"I've got a war in my mind." Is definitely my favorite quote, I use it everytime we need to use quotes in our poetry in class. It sums up everything get leaves a bit of mystery. You can interpret the meaning of the quote in different ways. For me, if means you're fucked up.

Meaning: you have intense issues, issues that stretch so far that not even your closest friends wouldn't understand.

It's Monday, school. I put my hair in a messy bun, out on my black jeans, a random top I got from hot topic, light make up and my black vans. First period was English Lecture 101, I fucking loved this class because it what's when we got to go up in front of the class of like 30 and speak from our darkest and deepest part of our hearts about issues that meant dear to you. I usually talked about my problems and today; I'm going to rant to the class about hate. Online hate. I've experienced it, you see, it's been about a month since Alex found out about the cuts and about 2 months of us dating but right now, while I'm at school, he's in LA with Will meeting some fans. Alex went public last night about our relationship. He posted a photo of is on Instagram with the caption: my beautiful girlfriend who actually isn't an asshole.

I got hate of course.

Hateful betcherina #1

@AlliePritchett oh my gosh ur so fake like omg ur using alex from his fame. Kys

Hateful betcherina #2

@AlliePritchett lol who even are you? Where did you even come from?

Hateful betcherina #3

Lol she looks anorexic and omg why is Alex even with her? She probably sucks Will off too lol faggot

And a lot more, some were actually so rude that I broke down in tears. So I sued their online bitterness to my advantage. Oh and not to mention I also gained 9K on twitter thanks to their hate (10K followers now). I walked up to the front of the class and when it was my turn, I turned off the lights and turned of the projector. The first thing that was displayed was numerous screenshots of the hate I've received and other people have received. I took a deep breath and begun:

"It really breaks my fucking heart to see genuine, sweet people I have the pleasure of knowing becoming upset to the point where they need to leave social media to get away from the insecure, jealous teenagers on the internet. Yeah, sure, you love your idols and would do anything for them. You protect them, but they are allowed to have friends, or even a girlfriend. Wink wink. I mean it gives no one the right, and I mean no one, the right to make those people feel like they aren't. No one should think they have a spot in their life to rid someone and rob them of their personal lives and take away their self-confidence and lower their self-esteem. People need to get a fucking grip on reality and stop being so hostile to girls and guys you know nothing about. Spread love and support, not hate, hostility and jealousy." I voiced and sat down back in my chair. As usual, the class applauded and I answers any questions and sure enough I was asked if I was referring to myself and I answered true fully: in some ways, more less.

At the end of the lesson, our English teacher assigned us with the task of dissecting a small extract of a poem and writing our own meaning towards it. I chose a poem that related to me at such an extant, it feels as if I wrote it, or if all my emotions wrote it:

I say that I don't want to talk about it

Actually I do.

But I'm afraid of your reaction.

I'm afraid of you,

I'm afraid that you'll never see me as an equal again.

I'm afraid of the pity in your eyes when you realise how screwed up I am

As I walked out of class by myself since Emmalie was feeling sick, I headed towards my next class alone. But then someone came up behind me and pulled me into the janitor's closest.

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Twitter: sonotallie