
06-18-2008, 04:01 AM
I just read one girls ordeal about watching her friend go through the pain of cutting and hurting herself and wishing to die, then accually going through with the dead and killing herself. I only read the thread, I did not know the people personally, but I feel their pain. How, when I am so far away and don't know them, do I feel their pain? I used to be suicidal.
I think people go through a phase of their life now where they want to die. They want to end it all...thinking that it will be much easier then living in this horrible world. THIS WORLD SUCKS! I will never deny that. I mean...I was raped twice and practically disowned by my father, watched my brother beat all his life, and was verbally abused all my life. I watched the most innocent of people turn out to be the heaviest of drug users, and I listen to drug users tell me how it doesn't effect them. Just because you can work and do something while you are on drugs does not mean you are healthy while on them.
But that is not my topic of discussion right now. I used to cut...cut as deep as I could make the razors go. I would take the disposable razors from our bathroom and pry the plastic apart till I got the thin razors from the middle. They left little painful stings for each tiny mark. And no one knew they were being used like that. They thought they were being thrown out. I also had a thing where when I cut myself, I liked to do it in the shower and squeeze out the blood so heavily that it looked like I was swimming in my own blood. (our shower took a while to drain.)
I liked to think I was going to die and escape everything any second. Cutting felt great. It took away the emotional pain long enough for me to smile. I would look down to my bed sheets soaked in blood and smile thinking it was my bad memories flooding out of my body. I cut a giant "X" on my leg (I only cut my legs). It took up from my ankle to my knee.
That night would change me. I went to take a shower to clean away the blood and watch it drain down the bathtub when my mother barged in. I think she went in my room and saw the razor and blood. I was filling an empty shampoo bottle with my blood when she walked in. I had a weird thing about my own blood. She freaked out and stood over me while I dried off and walked to my room...blood dripping on all the carpets...to get dressed. She made me get dressed, wrapped my leg in a towel, and threw me in the car.
She didn't tell me she cared or she was worried, just asked me "why". I didn't answer. I looked out the window emotionless as we began to drive out of the driveway and to a center to get me help. The first song on the radio was mine and my boyfriend (at the time)'s favorite song. We used to sit on the phone singing it to one another. I cried, but not enough for my mother to see or know.
We drove till the driveway of the center in a more city-like area and she pulled over on the side of the road. It was almost midnight so no one was around. I looked around confused and waited till she turned and looked to me. I will never forget that makeup stained face. Her caked on makeup ran off her chin and down her neck from her tears. I swear, my mother would have died from loss of tears if that was possible.
I never thought anyone cared until that night. She told me she didn't want to lose me to the center. She wanted to watch me grow up and be happy with my life. She wanted me better. Things did get better as she begged for them to. It's almost 2 years now since I last cut and although my crazy blood fetish makes me wanna see blood, cutting myself will never be the way. I know people care because I came to the brink of death...they all saw that...and they all showed me they cared. My father never cared I almost died, but my wonderful mother, my brother, and my close friend and ex Hunter have given me the strength to hang onto life. I have graduated High School this year and I am going to college.
Giving away your life is never worth it. If no one caught me, then I would not be here today to tell you all....its not worth it!
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