Feeling depressed?
Trust me, i know how you feel.
(you've probably heard that 1567415 times)
But it's true.
I started cutting when i was in 8th grade. (2 years ago)
Why? because I hated life. I hated everyone around me. Sure, I had friends. I had my family. But that really doesn't matter. I hated the way that I looked and felt about myself. I was literally disqusted with my appearence. I didn't know how to cope with it, so I let it out on myself. I wore hoodies everyday to cover it up. One day, I was having a really horrible morning. When I got to lunch, I took a plastic fork and jabbed my wrist multiple times. Later that day, I got called in to the counselor's office. That honestly didn't help me whatsoever. My parents found out and eventually everything got better.
It was only better for 6 months.
Mid-freshman year, I started liking this guy who my parents didn't approve of. I felt out of place at home. I dreaded coming home to daily interogations, questions, and accusations. I started dating him because I had very strong feelings for him. "Love conquers anything". Well' I was wrong. My parents were constantly degrading me. I'll be honest, it was thrilling dating someone who they didn't approve of. The late-night phone calls and hidden text messages gave me a rush of adrenaline. But the feeling that I had once forgotten, had suddenly came back. I resumed cutting. Except this time, it was worse. My boyfriend noticed my cuts and made me make promises to stop. I broke the promises because it was hard to find ways to cope with constantly being torn down by my parents. Eventually, he found out that I broke the promises, and referred my to the school councelor. He wasn't mad, he just didn't want me to deal with the pain alone. The counselor called my parents and I had to explain to them why I felt this way. They didn't stop interogating me, until my boyfriend broke up with me. He did this because he started feeling like he tore me away from everyone who I loved. Of course I was hurt, but it took that to get a better relationship with my parents.
Currently, I am proud of the scars on my skin. They prove that I have fought battles and won. I can't say that I haven't cut since then. I can't say that I haven't starved since then. But that's what society does. Society kills.
Next time you pick up that razor or skip a meal, think of your family. Or your friends. Or even me. Because I care.
And I am not the only one who does.
You are beautiful
Do not let society define you.
this is my actual story*
danceismylife23