The Self-Harmed

~Big brothers Advice~

I opened my door and looked out at a guy.

"Hey." He smiled. "I'm Cyrus. I'm you're big brother, for the big sibling program?"

"Oh Right. They told us about that. Um. Come in." I opened the door wider and he walked into my room. "Just sit down where ever."

In group they told us they where going to pair us up with someone that was older, and had graduated from school. They went through the same issues you are going through now. He sat on the chest.

"So How's this place treating you?" He asked, as I sat on my bed and shoved my feet under the covers. "They changed a lot of stuff since I've been here."

"When was the last time you were here?"

"Monday." He grinned at me. "I had to sign some papers for the Big Sibling program."

"You know what I mean." I rolled my eyes and smiled.

"Well I came here wen I was fifteen." He nodded. "Right off the bat everyone thought I was crazy So they plopped me in this place. I graduated, at Eighteen and Now I'm twenty three."

"What meds do you take?"

"None. I'm med free. I don't need to depend on pills."

"Really?" My eye brows raised. "Me to. Does it get better? Does the pain ever stop?"

"It gets." His eyebrows pulled together. "Easier to deal with."

"Aren't you supposed to tell Me I'll be perfect again?"

He looked up at me, "You want me to lie to you Charlie?"

"No." I shook my head. "I just thought maybe things would get better."

"It did, For a little bit."

"When?" I patted my bed, and he sat closer to me.

"I was twenty one." He said. "I got into a group were people smoked weed. I tried it. It made everything better. I wasn't sad. I'd go to bed high, wake up high, and get high through the day."

"What happened?"

"I realized that maybe this is what the pills would do to me if I was on them. So I quit. The withdraws where really bad. I was mean to people, I felt like I was light headed all the time. I wanted to pick up the pipe again But I didn't."

"Why?" I asked. "Why didn't you pick up the pipe? It made everything better, Cyrus."

"It did Charlie. But It was just masking my problems. I couldn't turn to weed all the time for everything. I knew that If I stopped, my problems would come rushing back ten fold. And they did."

"And then?" I asked, as he took off his jacket.

"I was Twenty-two. I ended up in the hospital."

"Why?"

"The voices in my head told me to kill myself. I wasn't good enough."

"So you listened."

"Yeah." He sighed. "And when I got out of the hospital-"

"You went back to weed."

He nodded, "Then I got caught up with the cops. I told the court my story, and they gave me a green card. I don't really smoke the weed unless There's something I can't handle. And I can handle a lot."

I sighed.

"Charlie." He looked down his eye brows pulled together.

"Yeah?"