This is how it all began: When I was 3 we brought a puppy, Harold. I grew up with Harold, I was left by myself with him to play, he was my best friend the only person I could trust, the only person I ever loved truly with all my heart. Not long after I turned 13 he died sadly, I remember how I was told it, it was just “oh, the dogs dead, Em.” I was devastated, I ran into my mom’s room crying, I remember just lying there crying my heart out but no one came in to see if I was OK, so I ran up to my room hoping that somebody would notice me. My brother James and mom saw me run off crying so why did no one come and comfort me? They knew how close I was to Harold.
Once I’d stopped crying for a bit, I got the feeling that no one cared for me and I began to feel frustrated, so I began to write poetry thinking that that would get my frustration out but it didn’t. I tried many other ways but they didn’t work, then one of my friends on the internet recommended that I cut myself everytime I felt depressed, frustrated, or alone from this world. So I did and I found that it worked, then it just became so addictive.
My mom knew that I was depressed but she just classed it as a phase I was going through, but she’s never quite understood why I am depressed over something so small, but to me it wasn’t something small, it was the biggest thing to happen in my life, I will never be able to get over it, I have never been the same since then.
I’m fourteen and I’ve been doing SI now for just over a year. I began on April 12th. No one I talk to about this understand why I do it and why it’s so addictive. I want someone to talk to that will relate to why I do this. I’ve carved a few things into my arm like ‘Freak’, ‘Loner’, ‘Loser’, ‘Alone’ and a few more. I sometimes become suicidal and I cut to relase my stress.