Anonymous Story #4

    Back during the summer after seventh grade, I got in a huge fight with my best friend. She was that type of person that could influence everyone's opinion, and as soon as she decided she hated me, all of our other friends started hating me too. I would get calls and text every day telling me that I should die and that I'm a bitch/whore/worthless/fat/ugly. For most of the summer I ignored them, but toward the end I began worrying about school and how it would be since I had classes with some of them. The more I worried, the more numb I became. One day, around a week before eighth grade started, I picked up a thumbtack and cut my wrist. It gave me this surge of feeling and I loved it. It made me feel, so I did it again and again. Over the next few days I would do it a few times a day and it made me happier. 

     Then school started and I began being physically bullied. My old best friend closed my locker on my fingers, pushed me in the halls, tripped me in gym, and just shouted offensive things whenever she would see me. I began being terrified to go to school and would dread every day, so every morning I would cut a little deeper to get me through the day. It went like that all year, and I hated myself so much. All the self-hatred made me lose my appetite, and at one point I would go weeks with just eating a few almonds, or just something small. People eventually noticed and made me eat more, but I hated it. The year ended, but I still cut every few days. My arms, legs, and stomach were full of red lines that just wouldn't get better. 

     Then freshman year started. At the beginning I was happier and eating, and the cuts wouldn't come so often. Things were looking up, but halfway toward the year I had a breakdown. I had voices in my head telling me that no one wanted me, and that I was a burden to my family. I became very depressed again, and the cutting started once more, but this time it was deeper and full of anger. Eventually a friend of mine told my social worker and she started talking to me, and by the end of the year I felt better. 

     Summer came and I was cutting a lot less. My last day of cutting was July 14th. Everything was great for me by that point, until a few weeks ago. I freaked out so much, that I ended up cutting..They weren't bad- they're already almost faded, but I just feel so terrible that I would relapse after so much time. My left arm still has plenty of scars from so long ago, but I'm dealing with them, and I'm trying to be happy and healthy.