IGNORE THIS IM JUST POSTING IT HERE SO I CAN GET IT SOMEWHERE ELSE

My story, pt. 2:
That was my first time SH'ing. I won't go into gory details but, yeah. At 11 years old, I was involved in a drug raid which made my paranoia incredibly bad. I don't feel comfortable going into great detail about my relationship at 13, but I'm sure you could conjure up ideas of what took place. I escaped from that, and by this point, I was in a terrible place. My self harming had intensified and gotten much worse, the cuts no longer scratch-like, but ones requiring stitches. I was full of self hate, and hate towards everyone and everything. I started drinking a lot as a way of coping with what was going on in my mind, and I fell into the wrong crowd of people. These people were very bad for me, I was vulnerable - they noticed that and took advantage of it. Thereafter, I fell into an incredibly deep depression. I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't eat, or sleep, or shower, or drink. I just layed in bed, staring at a wall, cutting myself up and burning myself with my beloved lighter, and listening to certain songs. I got sicker and sicker, and started having suicidal thoughts. Of course at that time I could never have even attempted suicide, I was too sad. Too sad to kill myself... My family noticed, and I got referred to a doctor. I got diagnosed with depression and borderline personality disorder, at 14. 

My life just went on like that for a long time, self harming, crying, feeling down, feeling suicidal. I eventually did attempt suicide, quite a few times, which isn't something I like to admit. I was sick and I recognised this. I needed to do something about it, I just didn't know what. I felt so helpless, hearing voices and hallucinating daily, tormented with the memories of my past experiences. I sort of had an epiphany one day, I realised I couldn't go on this way. I tried so hard to recover, and I stopped self harming for a whole year. I felt more confident in myself and more positive overall. Things were going okay.

I slipped up. When I was 15, I picked up the razorblade again. I tore into my body and created more scars, which have faded with time. I was so disappointed in myself and kept falling into spells of depression. My life was literally like an emotional rollercoaster. And so things continued in the way they previously did, until I met someone. If he reads this I know he'll be like 'what the fk? I didn't do anything special.' But in all honesty, he was the person who inspired me to sort of, help myself and turn my life around. He has helped me immensely and I'm so, so grateful for him. I love him. He knows who he is - the most freaking amazing person in my life. It sounds crazy considering the circumstance between us, but I swear, it's true. I'm so thankful for him.

This has cut a bit short but it's late and I can't be bothered typing more. That's a watered-down version of my life story. At the moment, I'm doing a lot better. I hear voices from time to time but I know how to stop them. I still get down quite often but not nearly as severe as I used to. I actually have realised that I'm not completely worthless, and that I deserve a life. I feel more positive in myself and more positive about most things now. I still have thoughts of self harming when I'm stressed, depressed, angry, sad or anxious, but at the moment I haven't hurt myself for 18 days, and I'm determined to increase that number.

 I'm Pippa and I'm 16 years of age. There isn't really much to me. :)