I have been cutting for about a year off and on. Mostly on. For the past few weeks I have not been able to cut because someone at school saw cuts and told the counsellor. She called my dad and now they are always checking all the spots I did it most.
The last couple days I have given up and am finding ways to get around them. I (used to) cut my wrists, a little, and my hips, thighs, ankles, and pantie line, “seriously”. When the counsellor asked why I told her it was because I miss living with my mom. I lied. I hated living with my mom, living with my dad may not be better but I know I’m safe at least. When I lived with my mom I was abused regularly, in every way you could think of. She was verbally abusive with only occasional outbursts of rage toward me. I can’t say I blame her. My step dad Kevin, he was an alcoholic, drug addict, who was obviously, always drunk. He was a very violent person. He yelled and broke everything, punched holes into the wall and beat my mother constantly. When we were little kids she made the rule that he couldn’t hit me, my brother, or my sister. He’d broken a wooden paddle on me and my brother on two different occasions, he never hit us after that because he didn’t want her to leave. He grounded us all the time, raised his hand and yelled but that was it. He came along when I was about four and left us for good when I was twelve. Before him there there was Steve. Steve wasn’t abusive, but really “nice”. Especially to me until he went to jail for murder when I was six. I didn’t realise what his niceness was until he’d been gone awhile. My older sister went forward and said that he had touched her, but she wouldn’t press charges because she feared him. In first grade, like every day, I went to my school counsellor where she always questioned me about it. I denied everything that had ever happened. By then it was to late anyway. Someone else (I’m not saying who intentionally) was doing the same thing. From when I was around six or seven until I was twelve all kinds of terrible things that no one should ever ever have to endure. Sometimes I fought back, and occasionally it worked, other times it was rape, or I just wouldn’t care and not do anything. I got so sick of it after a while that I tried to kill myself with Advil when I was about eleven. That quit when I got to the point where I always fought and I guess he got sick of me, no objections there. From ten to twelve my best friend’s older brother, who happened to live right next to me, tried to rape me every chance he got. He was only three years older then me, and not too much bigger. He never got to far. But I have nightmares about the third guy (Scott) all the time. I have been drowning them out with sleeping pills again, which helps. His roommate, who was nineteen, always kept an eye out for me though. Although I’d notice him staring at me sometimes, ways I don’t like to be looked at, he kept Scott from getting too close to me when he could, he moved after just a after a little while.
Recently I lost my best friend over stupid shit that happened at her birthday last year. We went to her mom’s friend’s house and he turned to be a total pervert too (surprise, surprise). He couldn’t keep his hands to himself and I am too nice of a person to state I am uncomfortable and get away from that particular situation. I never mentioned it to her because I knew she wouldn’t believe me. I told my boyfriend, and even though I pleaded with him not to tell her or her boyfriend,he did anyway. Her and her mom said that I “am trying to get a whole bunch of innocent people in trouble” and I “just want attention”. I guess she was never a real friend anyway. It sucks to live in the same apartment complex as her.
The only person who knows anything about most of these things is my boyfriend. He has helped me with sleeping pills and cutting a lot but my dad forbids him from me so when I am not able to talk to him I get worse. My new cutting spot is the inside of my arm right below my elbow. I discovered it this morning. My point in sharing this with everyone here is for my help as much as it is yours. For anyone who has been through or is still involved in these things I want them to know if I could take their pain and make it mine I would. But since I can’t, stay strong. Things will get better. Thanks guys.