My story: PLEASE TAKE THE TIME TO READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (TRIGGER WARNING) Did you know that almost one in every twelve people self-harm? It is said that as few as twelve percent of self-harm cases receive professional help. Self-harming is a serious problem and it has many misconceptions. Many people think that people who commit acts of self-harm do it for attention. Which isn’t the case. In most cases, self-harm is a cry for help. Think about this, it only takes one cut, one burn, or just one act of self-harm to lead to a permanent scar, reminders, and could even end someones life! Society often makes unfair and untrue assumptions about people who self-harm. They need to realize that they are wrong! A lot of people are too scared and ashamed to seek help with self-harming. I am hoping that my story will help people and maybe save at least just one life. So here is my story. I don’t remember the exact date I started self-harming. I do remember that I was about twelve years old. Events from all the way back to fourth grade had led up to it. This will me emotional and hard for me to talk about, but I will. However, I will not go into details for your sake. I used to believe in fairytales, I believed that life would always be happy. Boy was I dead wrong. It all began the summer I moved to Gastonia. It was all fine and dandy at first, but then as the months had begun to pass, things started to go kinda down hill. My moms boyfriend (well now ex boyfriend) had started being mean to me. It started out as simple little things. At first it was just yelling and being grounded for no reason. I wasn’t used to all of that, so of course I would cry, but I’d always end up just brushing it off. That had continued for a while, then things began to get worse. On top of what was already going on, he had started to threaten me. Mama just kinda stood back and let it happen. He would threaten to do stuff like throw shoes at my head, and would threaten to beat me. I remember one incident where it had caused me to get on the bus and go to school crying one morning. People did ask what was wrong, but I was scared to tell anyone. After a while, his sons and their friends had started saying mean things and doing mean things to me. They would tell me that I was ugly and fat. They would tell me that no one loves me. A few things that they said were: “When you were little, your mom had to tie a steak around your neck just to get the dog to play with you”, “You’re so fat I can hear every step you take” etc. They had even made fun of my last name which is similar to “weasel”. I remember crying all of the time over it. At that time, I was in the fourth grade. People at school started to bully me. All of this had carried out for the rest of the year. The next year in fifth grade, things got worse. Not only was mama’s boyfriend threatening me, he had begun to carry out those threats. At first, I remember thinking that it was just a one time thing, that it wouldn’t happen again. Once again, I was wrong. It had progressively gotten worse. I had to wear clothes that would cover up bruises (mainly on my legs). Mama had still sat back and let this happen. Or maybe she was just too blind and stuck in her own world to notice what was happening right in front of her. People at school had began to physically bully me. They would push me, knock me down, and things of that nature. All of this had begun to build up inside of me. Holding in everything. I felt so consumed by pain, hate, sadness, and depression. The next year (when I was in 6th grade), again had gotten worse. This is the year I started self harming. It was the year that changed my life. The bullies had gotten worse, and things at home had gotten worse. At school, there where a group of guys who would constantly put me down. They were in most of my classes, so nothing could really be done about it. They would say that I smelled like a dog, would make barking sounds, call me ugly, pizza face, fat, and just a lot of mean and hurtful things. I was in chorus one day and these two girls had decided to join in on the stuff. The kept punching me, they would ask if it hurt, and then they would laugh. They left bruises on me. I was being hurt so bad emotionally and physically. About this time I had started self-harming. It was small at first. Just one cut. I mean who could it hurt?? No one right? Wrong. At the time, this had felt like my only option. The first few times, I used a blade from hair clippers. I remember dragging it across my wrists. I felt almost immediate relief. I told myself that it was just a one time thing. That I wouldn’t ever do it again. After that first time, I found that I couldn’t stop. It was like my own little secret, my form of control, a way to just let everything out. I don’t think that anyone ever suspected that I would do it. As the days, months and years passed, thing got worse at school and home (not gonna go into details). I did go to the guidance counselors, but they didn’t help. They had only made it worse. The cutting got worse and worse. I had to start wearing long sleeves to cover it up. Eventually I moved from just cutting on my wrists, to almost anywhere I could that wouldn’t be noticed. (Like my legs, and my stomach). More stuff was happening at home, my grandmother had gotten breast cancer (she is now a survivor of 5 years!). But things just kept getting worse and worse. I eventually grew suicidal. I had begun to tell very, very few people how I was feeling. They have helped me A LOT. Those people are part of the reason I stopped self harming. As of October 7th, 2014, I have been cut free. I did not go into details, but over the years that passed, I had been raped several times, and the stuff was still continuing. I am proud to say that I have gotten out of those situations. I still find myself down, a lot, but I never give in! Know that you are not alone in this battle. Know that there are always helping hands that are here for you! You can get past this, and you are strong enough. I hope that no one has to go through what I went through. I will not mention my name, but I know that certain people who read this will know who I am. I have asked my friends to share this to help raise awareness, and to let people know that they are not alone and that they should not be afraid to get help! Thank you for those that have actually read this trough, and I hope I have helped some.
Posted on: Wed, 15 Oct 2014 02:14:33 +0000
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