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*
skimmingthepavement · 1 decade ago
0
reply
*applaudes* This is amazing. Like, perfect. I absoutley cannot tell you how much that touched me.