My first suicide attempt was at twelve. I was living with my overly-religious grandmother at the time. Everyday I was criticized on my weight and compared to my athletic, popular cousin who had everything and could do everything.
I came home from my first day of sixth grade. I came home with three forms for honors science, social studies and language arts. I gave the forms to my grandmother and as I turned to walk out of her room she started shouting at me.
"How can someone as fat and dumb as you get put in honors classes?" I immediately burst into tears as she started calling my aunt and cousins to tell them. "Jordan won't last a day, if they had a weight requirement for these classes she would be put in the classes with people who are dyslexic and ride the handicapped bus."
I went into my room with my face red and tears pouring out of my eyes. "I thought I could make something out of myself for once, make them see I'm worth something." I went outside into the garage where I found a rope and threw it over a ledge hanging from the roof. I had a hard time tying the noose, I eventually gave up and laid in the yard for a couple of hours.
If it wasn't for me figuring out how to tie a rope I probably wouldn't be here today. The funny thing is the pictures I have from around that time I was the skinniest I've ever been. Don't let people manipulate you because you'll eventually see yourself as they see you and people don't give a damn what you think when you're on the edge.
