My Story, So Far
Oh boy where to start.
There is so much to what makes my story, me.
When I was younger, around 7-9 years old, I would have to visit my dad on the weekends because my parents divorced when I was 2 years old and I would go back and fourth seeing them on the weekends. I hated going so much, I would have a panic attack every time I went over there. I would cry for hours, clenching onto my mum before I had to leave. I would make up stories and make myself sick so I could try and see if my dad would let me stay at my moms. It was hell. During the beginning of this time period I came depressed because my dad would, and still does, make me feel like I am a piece of shit. My father is the sum of the earth, he is mentally degrading, he is abusive mentally and physically. When I would go to my dads house I would take pictures of my family and put them up and pretend they were there with me. It was horrible. I started having thoughts about suicide around age 9. I started pondering how life would be without me and everything. This continued up until I was 12, and in 7th grade. That winter was the first time I self harmed. It was not deep, it did not bleed much and I just had a bandanna wrapped around my wrist to cover it. It didnt scar or anything but a few days later I did it again. Then i stopped for a little, i stopped until the end of that year/the beginning of the summer leading to 8th grade. I started cutting on my leg with a razor I got from one of my mums work kits. I loved it, it helped so much. I didn't know that it would become an addiction though. I started doing it slowly more and more until I was doing it multiple times a day. This was in the summer leading up to 8th grade and I was 13 years old. This was my first suicide attempt. I took 4 meletonin pills and went to sleep hoping to not wake up the next day. I did though and I felt like shit the next day. The next night I took 6 of them, and still woke up. Then I got clean from cutting for about three-four months and then I relapsed/ . I also started dabbling in drugs now. I was smoking pot and taking some of my moms pills that helped with her anxiety when I had an anxiety attack. I started cutting again and it became bad. I got cutting really deep and hit veins. Then I decided to attempt again, I cut a vein going up and down. I was bleeding for 45 minutes straight and got really light headed and had to go to the hospital. I called my friends mom and she took me. We told them I got cut with glass or something so I would not have to go into the phsych ward for a week. It was not deep enough for stitches but it was deep and I lost a lot of blood. I kept cutting though. I cant tell it all tonight and I will go more in depth another night but then not even 6 months ago I did it again and about 4 days ago I relapsed again. Okay sorry i am so boring.
There is so much to what makes my story, me.
When I was younger, around 7-9 years old, I would have to visit my dad on the weekends because my parents divorced when I was 2 years old and I would go back and fourth seeing them on the weekends. I hated going so much, I would have a panic attack every time I went over there. I would cry for hours, clenching onto my mum before I had to leave. I would make up stories and make myself sick so I could try and see if my dad would let me stay at my moms. It was hell. During the beginning of this time period I came depressed because my dad would, and still does, make me feel like I am a piece of shit. My father is the sum of the earth, he is mentally degrading, he is abusive mentally and physically. When I would go to my dads house I would take pictures of my family and put them up and pretend they were there with me. It was horrible. I started having thoughts about suicide around age 9. I started pondering how life would be without me and everything. This continued up until I was 12, and in 7th grade. That winter was the first time I self harmed. It was not deep, it did not bleed much and I just had a bandanna wrapped around my wrist to cover it. It didnt scar or anything but a few days later I did it again. Then i stopped for a little, i stopped until the end of that year/the beginning of the summer leading to 8th grade. I started cutting on my leg with a razor I got from one of my mums work kits. I loved it, it helped so much. I didn't know that it would become an addiction though. I started doing it slowly more and more until I was doing it multiple times a day. This was in the summer leading up to 8th grade and I was 13 years old. This was my first suicide attempt. I took 4 meletonin pills and went to sleep hoping to not wake up the next day. I did though and I felt like shit the next day. The next night I took 6 of them, and still woke up. Then I got clean from cutting for about three-four months and then I relapsed/ . I also started dabbling in drugs now. I was smoking pot and taking some of my moms pills that helped with her anxiety when I had an anxiety attack. I started cutting again and it became bad. I got cutting really deep and hit veins. Then I decided to attempt again, I cut a vein going up and down. I was bleeding for 45 minutes straight and got really light headed and had to go to the hospital. I called my friends mom and she took me. We told them I got cut with glass or something so I would not have to go into the phsych ward for a week. It was not deep enough for stitches but it was deep and I lost a lot of blood. I kept cutting though. I cant tell it all tonight and I will go more in depth another night but then not even 6 months ago I did it again and about 4 days ago I relapsed again. Okay sorry i am so boring.