Don't judge me for what i've done, judge me for who i am.
getting this off my chest b/c i feel like i've been living a lie to too many ppl. covering my tracks, acting happy. people should know about who i used to be. and who i am now. i make this public for anyone to see. im not proud of it at all, im actually quite ashamed of it. im just hoping that my story can maybe help someone else. remember tho, this is who i used to be... i am a different person now.
so, for those of you who didnt know, even tho it was probably pretty obvious at times...
about a year ago, i was diagnosed with depression. ok now, before i go further, a medical doctor diagnosed me, so its up to u to decide how binding that is. she diagnosed me based on some "symptoms" after i was forced to do something/ see someone. anyone probably could have made the diagnosis anyways... its probably true.
well, how the story goes is over a year ago, probably more like a year and a half ago, i became really depressed. i didnt have really any reason to be. there were some reasons, but i should've handled them better, i just didnt. i was always sad and didnt want to do anything. but i pushed through it. that summer i found something that "helped" me through it. i started hurting myself. i would take a blade, safety pin, pretty much anything i could find and slice it through my skin. if i couldn't find anything, or get ahold of anything, i'd wrist bang (which is pretty self-explanatory). it started off not bad. a cut here and there. not deep at all. but hiding the cuts became like a chore, and placed more stress on me. i became pretty much a pro at makeup. the cuts were usually always on my upper arms, or thighs. places they couldn't accidentally cause any real damage. towards the beginning of my senior year i began to have problems sleeping, like bad. i'd be lucky to get 1-2 hours a night. i'd just lay there thinking about everything. eventually i'd cry myself to sleep, but not before slicing into my skin a few times. i'd also have panic attacks and i'd have complete emotional breakdowns alone in my room at least once a week. around this point, with stress at its highest due to several things going on in my life that i dont care to share on here and for reasons i dont really know, it got worse. i began slicing into my wrists. and the cuts were bad. it'd bleed for hours on end. but it'd help me fall asleep. it got to the point where i was doing this 2 to 3 times a day. not just on my wrist tho... that was reserved i guess for really bad days. i had cuts on my upper arms, thighs, hips. anywhere i could hide them/ cover them as for no one to know. i thought i had control of it, but i really really didnt. around this time i became suicidal. and seriously considered it at least 3 times. i have the note that i started and tried to finish. but each time couldn't. and i still have the scar from one cut that could've done it if i had gone through with it and pressed the knife hard enough. thank God i didnt. about a year ago, a couple months after i had started doing this, things got bad. my bf of the time would stay on the phone with me for hours just making sure i'd still be there in the morning. i guess it got to the point where he thought i couldn't handle it anymore, that i might actually do it. i always thought that i could control it, but the reality was that i couldnt. i had become consumed with the depression and with the cutting. he went to his school counselor and asked what to do, she made him tell her who it was. her school called my school and i was pulled out of class... i went down to the office with my counselor to find my dad sitting there. i knew what it was about. she told me that my bf at another school was concerned, and asked me if it was true. i couldnt lie. the prove was right there on my arm. i was so pissed. i hated him for telling. i didnt want them to know! i could handle it myself! i didnt want them involved! i couldn't believe that he had betrayed me like that... i honest to God hated him. i kno that i may have hated him at that time, and i hated him a couple times after that when things got bad b/c people had found out, but the truth remains that if he hadnt told, if my parents hadnt found out, that i probably would've been dead by the end of that month. november would've been my last month on this earth. it was the hardest thing to see my father cry in front of me as i put out my arm to show them. i had never seen him cry in my life. why had my ex told. i hated him. and i wanted to die. badly. that day i thought was the worst day of my life, but it was just going to get worse. i didnt want to go home, i didnt want to face my parents just yet. so they let me go back to class. but i had to sign a contract saying that i would go straight to the flag pole after the bell for my parents to pick me up, just so the school couldnt be liable if i ran off and killed myself. oh how badly i wanted to. i sat in class and kept thinking of ways i could do it before they came looking for me. i almost broke down in class. i wanted to die. but i couldnt do it, not after seeing my dad like that... so i went home. the next hour or so of sitting in front of my parents was the most unbearable. i felt like i had failed them. like i wasnt good enough. i had strived so hard to be perfect, and now here was proof that i wasnt. i just wanted to be perfect in their eyes... and i wasnt. and i didnt kno if they'd ever trust me again. i had lied to my mom. she had seen the cuts a month earlier while i was laying on a gurney in a hospital after my car accident (which i tried to take away as God wanted me here, i tried to stop cutting and be happy, but i failed. i was still suicidal). she asked what they were then cuz they obviously werent from the accident. i said i fell. she believed me. and now she didnt trust me anymore. my school counselor told my parents that i needed help. my mom called my doctor, not knowing what to do. after describing what i had been doing, they said to bring me in to see my doctor, or to take me to the ER (to get checked, analyzed, and most likely admitted...). i went to my doctor. i lied to her several times. played it off as not as bad as it really was. i didnt want to be put in a hospital. it worked. but it was so hard to lie. at that point i had gone a little while without cutting (where visible anyway, i had cuts where i could hide them. many of them) and i could act like it wasnt that bad, like i was getting over it. i just so badly didnt want to be put in a hospital. from how suicidal i was, how often i was cutting (around this time it was maybe 4-5 times a day), and how i had lost complete control, if i had told the truth, i dont see how they wouldn't have sent me to the hospital. the sad part is that i didnt want to go to the hospital because i knew i wouldn't be able to do anything in there. i would lose my cutting, which at the time is what i thought was the only thing i had full controls over. pretty pathetic... well, the lieing worked. apparently i was good at lieing through this entire point in my life. i hate lieing... well, i was put on anti-depressants and told to see a psychologist. i never saw a psychologist. i went through my first prescription, went back, and my dosage was increased double. i took four more pills in my prescription and stopped. that was the end of it. in the first prescription, my mom had to watch me take the pills, to make sure i took them. the second time i asked for her not to do that, for her trust back. i said i'd take them. i obviously didnt follow through with that, i didnt like the idea of being happy because of a pill. and some anti-depressants can increase suicidal tendencies or even make it worse in some ppl. i felt that that may have been the case. i wasnt improving, i was getting worse. i never stopped cutting either. i had almost daily wrists checks. which was really humiliating for my mom or dad to come in and tell me to stick out my arms for them to inspect. of course i just stopped cutting those. i was still suicidal, i still wanted to die. everynight i would cry myself to sleep, if i slept. which was pretty rare. i tried to fake happiness to most people. and i was pretty good at it. right when my parents stopped checking my wrists, i started cutting there again. i needed help... and it this point, i knew it. i had lost control, i wanted to stop. over time i did. i found methods to help myself. i joined an online help group. i started writing in a journal instead of cutting. it was so hard. at first i'd start out with only cutting once a day, and that was an accomplishment. then i would go a day, then 2, then maybe a week. every now and then i'd falter. i'd go without it for a month, and then i'd have a complete breakdown, and do it. i've gone 5 months now. 5 months may not seem like a long time, but its a huge accomplishment to me. quitting that was the hardest thing i have ever done in my life. i've thought about it many times since, but i push them from my head and i fight through it. its not easy, but i do it. i kno that it is something that i am going to have to live with for a very long time. i'm going to maybe start seeing a psychologist (like i should've a year ago), just to make sure it never happens again, and to find out exactly why it did in the first place and why it got out of control. it was the worst period in my life, and i really hope that no one ever has to go through it. luckily it wasnt as bad as it could've been. i think that i'm past that now, but the fact that it happened, and that it could possibly happen again scares the shit out of me. i'll always be plagued with unexplainable depression, and if i lost control back then, whats to say that i couldn't again. luckily, i am a stronger person now. i grew from it. i learned. i hope to never turn back into that person that i was. and no one should ever worry that i will. i will never ever kill myself. that is one thing that i have promised myself. i've lost too many ppl like that in my life. i kno how it effects ppl, if only i had known that before. so no one need worry about me from reading this and i definitely dont want your pity. i basically put this as in insight into who i was becuase i am tired of feeling like i was living a lie that entire time. faking happiness, putting on a facade all the time. i was depressed, i was never happy. that was me. no more lies. i also put this as a warning, and hopefully as help. i kno several ppl who still cut, and several ppl who do it more for attention. it may seem like it helps, but it really doesnt. it can and will ruin ur life. if u do hurt urself, are thinking about it, or are just depressed, GET HELP. i know you've heard it, but trust me. listen to someone who has gone through it. who's still going through depression. get help while u can. dont let it consume you. i seriously thought about getting help right before i lost control, but i decided not to, thinking i could control it myself. next thing i knew... i'd lost it. when i first started cutting i said that i would never become suicidal. well i did. i already was suicidal to begin with, this just opened the door and gave me the means to accomplish that. so please, PLEASE, never do this to urself. never do this to ur loved ones. find better ways to relieve pain, find a friend to confide in. confide in me if u have to, i will understand and try to help! just please dont resort to hurting urself. if ur thinking about it, just dont, it wont help at all. it may seem like it does, but think of the long term effects. do u kno how much shame and how bad i feel every time i see my scars. i become disgusted with myself. and scars are ugly... we all know that. and what do i say if someone asks me what a certain scar is from... its embarassing. and not just the scars. think about the mental implications. to have something like that control ur life, its an awful awful feeling, something u can never completely rid ur mind of. i'm so ashamed that i let myself lose control... just think about it, and just dont do it. get help if ur thinking about this, or feel this way. no one should go through that, no one should feel that way, and no one should hurt themselves. if i can get past it, so can u... just get help. it may take a lot to get past it, and i'm pretty sure i'm not completely past it, but you can at least stop the actual process of hurting yourself. the thoughts may take more to get rid of... i do kno tho that i will never do it again, but i still think about it. so just dont do it. Get the help you need. please...
Update 1/11/06...
so i am a major hypocrite and i realize this and i admit it. but the reason i tell my friends to stop this and to not do this to themselves is because i know what its like! it may not seem bad at all when ur doing it and no one really knows... but what happens if someone finds out... it just gets worse... and there is always the possibility that u could accidently kill yourself...
even to this day i am a hypocrite. i've tried to stop, and yeah i went those five months... but probably not more than a week after posting this i did it again. and did it at least a dozen more times after that. once with the thought of completely ending it because i was miserable and really wanted to die. but i didnt. and i've stopped again. every single time i did it the memories came back and i was just worse off afterwards than i was before i did it. its a quick temporary fix, but geez... right after i did it every single time i completely regretted it and wished i'd never done it at all! its been a month this time which we all (or those who have gone through it) know that this is an accomplishment! but i've made a promise to myself. i'm not doing it again. never. i've decided that if at any time i actually get out a blade, i'm taking myself to the e.r. because thats how bad something like this is. so yeah... just thought i'd update. so again... please no one start doing this... trust me... it does not help!!!
so, for those of you who didnt know, even tho it was probably pretty obvious at times...
about a year ago, i was diagnosed with depression. ok now, before i go further, a medical doctor diagnosed me, so its up to u to decide how binding that is. she diagnosed me based on some "symptoms" after i was forced to do something/ see someone. anyone probably could have made the diagnosis anyways... its probably true.
well, how the story goes is over a year ago, probably more like a year and a half ago, i became really depressed. i didnt have really any reason to be. there were some reasons, but i should've handled them better, i just didnt. i was always sad and didnt want to do anything. but i pushed through it. that summer i found something that "helped" me through it. i started hurting myself. i would take a blade, safety pin, pretty much anything i could find and slice it through my skin. if i couldn't find anything, or get ahold of anything, i'd wrist bang (which is pretty self-explanatory). it started off not bad. a cut here and there. not deep at all. but hiding the cuts became like a chore, and placed more stress on me. i became pretty much a pro at makeup. the cuts were usually always on my upper arms, or thighs. places they couldn't accidentally cause any real damage. towards the beginning of my senior year i began to have problems sleeping, like bad. i'd be lucky to get 1-2 hours a night. i'd just lay there thinking about everything. eventually i'd cry myself to sleep, but not before slicing into my skin a few times. i'd also have panic attacks and i'd have complete emotional breakdowns alone in my room at least once a week. around this point, with stress at its highest due to several things going on in my life that i dont care to share on here and for reasons i dont really know, it got worse. i began slicing into my wrists. and the cuts were bad. it'd bleed for hours on end. but it'd help me fall asleep. it got to the point where i was doing this 2 to 3 times a day. not just on my wrist tho... that was reserved i guess for really bad days. i had cuts on my upper arms, thighs, hips. anywhere i could hide them/ cover them as for no one to know. i thought i had control of it, but i really really didnt. around this time i became suicidal. and seriously considered it at least 3 times. i have the note that i started and tried to finish. but each time couldn't. and i still have the scar from one cut that could've done it if i had gone through with it and pressed the knife hard enough. thank God i didnt. about a year ago, a couple months after i had started doing this, things got bad. my bf of the time would stay on the phone with me for hours just making sure i'd still be there in the morning. i guess it got to the point where he thought i couldn't handle it anymore, that i might actually do it. i always thought that i could control it, but the reality was that i couldnt. i had become consumed with the depression and with the cutting. he went to his school counselor and asked what to do, she made him tell her who it was. her school called my school and i was pulled out of class... i went down to the office with my counselor to find my dad sitting there. i knew what it was about. she told me that my bf at another school was concerned, and asked me if it was true. i couldnt lie. the prove was right there on my arm. i was so pissed. i hated him for telling. i didnt want them to know! i could handle it myself! i didnt want them involved! i couldn't believe that he had betrayed me like that... i honest to God hated him. i kno that i may have hated him at that time, and i hated him a couple times after that when things got bad b/c people had found out, but the truth remains that if he hadnt told, if my parents hadnt found out, that i probably would've been dead by the end of that month. november would've been my last month on this earth. it was the hardest thing to see my father cry in front of me as i put out my arm to show them. i had never seen him cry in my life. why had my ex told. i hated him. and i wanted to die. badly. that day i thought was the worst day of my life, but it was just going to get worse. i didnt want to go home, i didnt want to face my parents just yet. so they let me go back to class. but i had to sign a contract saying that i would go straight to the flag pole after the bell for my parents to pick me up, just so the school couldnt be liable if i ran off and killed myself. oh how badly i wanted to. i sat in class and kept thinking of ways i could do it before they came looking for me. i almost broke down in class. i wanted to die. but i couldnt do it, not after seeing my dad like that... so i went home. the next hour or so of sitting in front of my parents was the most unbearable. i felt like i had failed them. like i wasnt good enough. i had strived so hard to be perfect, and now here was proof that i wasnt. i just wanted to be perfect in their eyes... and i wasnt. and i didnt kno if they'd ever trust me again. i had lied to my mom. she had seen the cuts a month earlier while i was laying on a gurney in a hospital after my car accident (which i tried to take away as God wanted me here, i tried to stop cutting and be happy, but i failed. i was still suicidal). she asked what they were then cuz they obviously werent from the accident. i said i fell. she believed me. and now she didnt trust me anymore. my school counselor told my parents that i needed help. my mom called my doctor, not knowing what to do. after describing what i had been doing, they said to bring me in to see my doctor, or to take me to the ER (to get checked, analyzed, and most likely admitted...). i went to my doctor. i lied to her several times. played it off as not as bad as it really was. i didnt want to be put in a hospital. it worked. but it was so hard to lie. at that point i had gone a little while without cutting (where visible anyway, i had cuts where i could hide them. many of them) and i could act like it wasnt that bad, like i was getting over it. i just so badly didnt want to be put in a hospital. from how suicidal i was, how often i was cutting (around this time it was maybe 4-5 times a day), and how i had lost complete control, if i had told the truth, i dont see how they wouldn't have sent me to the hospital. the sad part is that i didnt want to go to the hospital because i knew i wouldn't be able to do anything in there. i would lose my cutting, which at the time is what i thought was the only thing i had full controls over. pretty pathetic... well, the lieing worked. apparently i was good at lieing through this entire point in my life. i hate lieing... well, i was put on anti-depressants and told to see a psychologist. i never saw a psychologist. i went through my first prescription, went back, and my dosage was increased double. i took four more pills in my prescription and stopped. that was the end of it. in the first prescription, my mom had to watch me take the pills, to make sure i took them. the second time i asked for her not to do that, for her trust back. i said i'd take them. i obviously didnt follow through with that, i didnt like the idea of being happy because of a pill. and some anti-depressants can increase suicidal tendencies or even make it worse in some ppl. i felt that that may have been the case. i wasnt improving, i was getting worse. i never stopped cutting either. i had almost daily wrists checks. which was really humiliating for my mom or dad to come in and tell me to stick out my arms for them to inspect. of course i just stopped cutting those. i was still suicidal, i still wanted to die. everynight i would cry myself to sleep, if i slept. which was pretty rare. i tried to fake happiness to most people. and i was pretty good at it. right when my parents stopped checking my wrists, i started cutting there again. i needed help... and it this point, i knew it. i had lost control, i wanted to stop. over time i did. i found methods to help myself. i joined an online help group. i started writing in a journal instead of cutting. it was so hard. at first i'd start out with only cutting once a day, and that was an accomplishment. then i would go a day, then 2, then maybe a week. every now and then i'd falter. i'd go without it for a month, and then i'd have a complete breakdown, and do it. i've gone 5 months now. 5 months may not seem like a long time, but its a huge accomplishment to me. quitting that was the hardest thing i have ever done in my life. i've thought about it many times since, but i push them from my head and i fight through it. its not easy, but i do it. i kno that it is something that i am going to have to live with for a very long time. i'm going to maybe start seeing a psychologist (like i should've a year ago), just to make sure it never happens again, and to find out exactly why it did in the first place and why it got out of control. it was the worst period in my life, and i really hope that no one ever has to go through it. luckily it wasnt as bad as it could've been. i think that i'm past that now, but the fact that it happened, and that it could possibly happen again scares the shit out of me. i'll always be plagued with unexplainable depression, and if i lost control back then, whats to say that i couldn't again. luckily, i am a stronger person now. i grew from it. i learned. i hope to never turn back into that person that i was. and no one should ever worry that i will. i will never ever kill myself. that is one thing that i have promised myself. i've lost too many ppl like that in my life. i kno how it effects ppl, if only i had known that before. so no one need worry about me from reading this and i definitely dont want your pity. i basically put this as in insight into who i was becuase i am tired of feeling like i was living a lie that entire time. faking happiness, putting on a facade all the time. i was depressed, i was never happy. that was me. no more lies. i also put this as a warning, and hopefully as help. i kno several ppl who still cut, and several ppl who do it more for attention. it may seem like it helps, but it really doesnt. it can and will ruin ur life. if u do hurt urself, are thinking about it, or are just depressed, GET HELP. i know you've heard it, but trust me. listen to someone who has gone through it. who's still going through depression. get help while u can. dont let it consume you. i seriously thought about getting help right before i lost control, but i decided not to, thinking i could control it myself. next thing i knew... i'd lost it. when i first started cutting i said that i would never become suicidal. well i did. i already was suicidal to begin with, this just opened the door and gave me the means to accomplish that. so please, PLEASE, never do this to urself. never do this to ur loved ones. find better ways to relieve pain, find a friend to confide in. confide in me if u have to, i will understand and try to help! just please dont resort to hurting urself. if ur thinking about it, just dont, it wont help at all. it may seem like it does, but think of the long term effects. do u kno how much shame and how bad i feel every time i see my scars. i become disgusted with myself. and scars are ugly... we all know that. and what do i say if someone asks me what a certain scar is from... its embarassing. and not just the scars. think about the mental implications. to have something like that control ur life, its an awful awful feeling, something u can never completely rid ur mind of. i'm so ashamed that i let myself lose control... just think about it, and just dont do it. get help if ur thinking about this, or feel this way. no one should go through that, no one should feel that way, and no one should hurt themselves. if i can get past it, so can u... just get help. it may take a lot to get past it, and i'm pretty sure i'm not completely past it, but you can at least stop the actual process of hurting yourself. the thoughts may take more to get rid of... i do kno tho that i will never do it again, but i still think about it. so just dont do it. Get the help you need. please...
Update 1/11/06...
so i am a major hypocrite and i realize this and i admit it. but the reason i tell my friends to stop this and to not do this to themselves is because i know what its like! it may not seem bad at all when ur doing it and no one really knows... but what happens if someone finds out... it just gets worse... and there is always the possibility that u could accidently kill yourself...
even to this day i am a hypocrite. i've tried to stop, and yeah i went those five months... but probably not more than a week after posting this i did it again. and did it at least a dozen more times after that. once with the thought of completely ending it because i was miserable and really wanted to die. but i didnt. and i've stopped again. every single time i did it the memories came back and i was just worse off afterwards than i was before i did it. its a quick temporary fix, but geez... right after i did it every single time i completely regretted it and wished i'd never done it at all! its been a month this time which we all (or those who have gone through it) know that this is an accomplishment! but i've made a promise to myself. i'm not doing it again. never. i've decided that if at any time i actually get out a blade, i'm taking myself to the e.r. because thats how bad something like this is. so yeah... just thought i'd update. so again... please no one start doing this... trust me... it does not help!!!