Psyke.org

Julia

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Copyright, Julia

Ever since I was young, I would inflict pain on myself to make me feel better. I would pinch my leg or arm when I would cry or feel sad about my parent’s divorce, as I got older I started biting my thumb — I know that sounds weird, but it calmed me down. The summer before 8th grade, my friend and I attempted to overdose, but my sister took the pills away. Sadly, when my mom found out, she did nothing about it.

In 8th grade, biting my thumb no longer helped me, that’s when I turned to cutting. At first it wasn’t deep and I didn’t do many. After school my friend and I would come to my house and cut ourselves with scissors and pocket knives. As time progressed things got worse, I was cutting every day except now with a knife that I had taken from my kitchen and hid under my bed. After a while, my friends (who knew I cut) made me see my school counsellor, although I swore and signed a contract saying I wouldn’t cut, I still would but not on my arms, on my legs. The school counsellor never told my mom either. My mom a few months earlier had seen cuts on my arms but still, did nothing about it.

A week before Thanksgiving in 9th grade, I cut myself over forty times on both my arms and took twenty-five aspirin. I had been throwing up that night nonstop, so I told my mom what happened and she took me to the hospital, I was there from 10:30 pm till 2:30 pm. I had to talk to many doctors and I was told I needed to go on anti-depressants and start seeing a therapist. For a while things were weird around my house and with my family but till this day, I do not see a therapist and I am not on anti-depressants.

After everything that happened, my mother still did nothing about it, so I tried to help myself for a while but eventually, I lost control and I grabbed a razor and cut my shoulders so no one could see them even under a t-shirt. I never told my mom about those cuts and I’m not going to. But lately, I’ve been trying different ways to stop cutting like taking a bubble bath, reading a book, and listening to ‘happy’ music. At times I still feel like I want to go grab a razor and just glide it across my skin, but in the end, it’s not worth it. I’ve lost friends because of it and my family treats me very different.

If anyone ever needs someone to talk to, e-mail me at babyitalianx3@yahoo.com I check my mail very often so I’m almost always available.

 

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