Hidden in the Fear
Sometimes as you look at yourself in the mirror you see a failure, the pain just doesn’t help so you have to find better things to end your pain.
When I was seven my parents got a divorce and my mom left. For several years my parents tried to work out their problems but all they were doing was creating problems for my brothers and I. My father was a truck driver and he was never home so my older brother was watching us until one day a CYS worker told my dad that he had to either give us up for adoption or give us to my mom. Well instead he sent my one brother and I to live in Texas with our aunt at the age of twelve. By this time I was smoking cigarettes and thinking of how much I hated life. I quit smoking and life was going fine until I hit about fourteen and realised that I was all alone and had no one to comfort me. I began to become depressed and wanted to leave the world I hadn’t realised that I could easily do it by cutting. Until I found a ‘game’ where you scratched yourself until you had open wounds. I did that for a while probably until I turned fifteen and started going to counselling and my father promised me he would never do anything stupid as long as I promised to stop cutting. So I did… but he didn’t… in November right after thanksgiving my father passed away. That was the end for me. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I started getting a scalpel from a friend of mine and seriously digging it into my wrists, arms, legs, and thighs. I couldn’t take it anymore no one understood what I was going through. My aunt and I we didn’t get along at all. So now at the age of seventeen it’s gotten to where I’ve tried to overdose. And all that everyone says is that I’m doing it for attention. Well just wait they will find out one day that I mean it.