Copyright, Shannon R
When I was in the 6th grade my mom was dating one of my “friend’s” dads. Everyone thought that it was an absolute wonderful thing. But they didn’t have to be there with all of them. We couldn’t afford our house anymore so we moved into a two-bedroom apartment with me, my mom and my brother. We didn’t even have enough money for laundry. That year I really thought I was in love with one of my two best friends, Drew. I wrote him a note telling him this and gave it to him. The next week we went on a retreat and we didn’t talk. But soon we started fighting. And he started telling me how he didn’t like me like that and all of this stuff that was just earth shattering to me. We stopped being friends that day which was awful because he was one of my best. I hadn’t ever cried so hard. I hated everything. The next week my other best friend, Jake, committed suicide because he thought no one cared. He tried to call me to talk to me and I told him to call back. I caused him to do it. My mom got engaged to the stupid dad. We were like poor. My dad told me I was a mistake. My GPA went from 3.9 to 2.5. I was sad. I didn’t want to live anymore. At 12 years old I cut myself so deep it didn’t stop bleeding for a long time. I don’t do it a lot still but I still do it. It’s wrong and I know that. But sometimes it helps. It shouldn’t, but it does. If you need to talk or want to talk, please click my name at the top and e-mail me. I could use a listening someone.