My Last Night
Not so long ago I said nothing would get me feeling so down again, how wrong I could be. I sit here almost in tears wondering what to do. Alone in this house of haunted memories, those ghosts are watching me, ready to jump out at me at any given opportunity.
Desperately searching for something to do, anything, just to keep me from you. I pick up photos and turn them slowly, smiling a weak little smile to myself, happy pictures, happy memories, happy thoughts.
One second turns into minutes and then slowly, oh so slowly, my mind swaps into desperate thoughts. I was stupid to think anything would stop this from happening again, so stupid.
One by one those ghosts jump at me bringing all the memories back, bad memories, memories of things that I don’t want to remember, memories of you. Tears fall down my face like a waterfall. I have to stop the tears, I don’t like them to fall so I run for my friend, I pick him up and stare at him knowing full well this is the wrong thing to do but a little voice jumps into my mind you have to it says ‘you need this’. It’s right, I do need this, I have to do this, it keeps me alive.
I mutter sweet words as I drag it across my wrist, maybe if I go a little deeper it will stop all this. I press as hard as it will go, the blood pouring from my wrist. I look around to see my ghosts are gone, only now the damage is done. I close my eyes and wish I could disappear, just like they just did.
I fall back onto my bed, my head goes dizzy and I get scared, I panic. I try for my door but don’t make it, I try to scream out for help but no one comes, no one’s here, no one’s home. I sob quietly as I slowly fall asleep, pictures of you, of friends, of family shooting in front of my eyes, if only they were here right now, I don’t want to die.
It’s gone blank now, my eyes are fully closed, I know what’s happening, I can feel I’m going cold. Goodbye, sweet life I whisper and I remember no more.
I’m not sure how to start this to be honest. I’ve never sat down and said to anyone what my story is, and never really told anyone the reasons behind my secret.
Let me introduce myself. My name is Tilly, I am sixteen years old, I live in the UK with my mum. I have two older brothers who live with my dad. There’s nothing that makes my story different from other people, but I will tell it anyway.
I don’t remember much from my childhood, I don’t remember what I was like; was I happy? Was I sad? Mixed up? My parents and my family never really talk about it much, all my mum has said is I was a moody child and my aunt said I was always happy. She asked me what happened to me to make me change and to make me do what I do. I couldn’t give an answer if I tried.
In primary school I used to hang out with the kids that were “popular” (my primary school isn’t that big compared to what my high school was, there was about a hundred children at my primary school). I wore makeup from the age of seven to school, to be looked at as “cool”, I was the first one to go out with someone at school, so everyone focused on me and him. I suppose that’s why it messed up — along with the fact that we were only eight. I started to drink occasionally and smoke and I started to become sexually active by the age of nine, maybe ten. Sad but true.
One night I was out with my friend and the lads that lived by me (when I was about twelve), some of the lads were/are quite a bit older than me and so they seemed to talk about sex a lot. one night my friend went back to her house to get her coat and left me with four of the lads. One of them (who is one of my ex-boyfriends) came up to me and started to touch me up, I told him to get off me but he didn’t. All he did was touch me but I was really uncomfortable with it.
While he was doing it he was talking to the other lads that were there commenting on me, and what I looked like. They all kept laughing at me. It was only when my friend came back that they would let me move, I soon left that place with my friend. I never told her — or anyone — about what happened, I was ashamed of it. At the same time of that happening I was being touched up by someone who I won’t say. Not badly but still I was being touched up.
In 2000 (I think) my brother got caught dealing drugs in a nightclub, and the next day he was sentenced to three and a half years in prison. This was a hard time for everyone but I seemed to take it the worst. I’m not sure how but I used to think it was my fault and that I could have stopped it, as when I was out one night I was with this girl called Gemma and she went up to him asking him if he had “anything on him”, I thought nothing of it at the time but now looking back it is obvious.
During the time my brother was in prison I started to cut myself. For a while it was all kept secret but then my friends started to notice I had changed and I was wearing long sleeved blouses all the time at school and I hardly seemed happy at the time. I told one of them on the promise they would not tell anyone, but soon enough all my friends knew. I was so scared that people at school would find out because it would give them another reason to bully me even more than what they did already.
Before I knew it I had been self harming for four months and I couldn’t cope with it any longer and I knew I had to tell someone more experienced and someone that could help me. At my high school there’s a teacher that I got on really well with and so I decided to approach her and tell her. It was one lunch time, I had my friend with me and at first I couldn’t say anything about it so my teacher was asking questions like ‘are you pregnant, are you taking drugs’, as no words were coming out of my mouth. I lifted up my sleeve and I could see relief over her face followed by shock. She didn’t respond in the way I thought she would. I thought she would run off and tell someone but she didn’t, she sat there watching me cry, trying to calm me down, she offered me the support that all along I needed. I thought things would get better.
A few months after telling my teacher I found out the deputy head of my high school knew (he was the school’s welfare officer). I found out during an argument with my teacher (in which myself and my teacher cried after it!) and I couldn’t believe it. My brain went into a state of shock — I thought I had to tell my parents before someone else did. I told myself that I would tell them that weekend. I did.
Me, my dad and my brother were sat in the front room watching television, and then I decided to get my mum (this took me about ten minutes as I kept walking to the office door and to the garden trying to put it off and trying to get up the courage). When I eventually went into the office I said to my mum “mum can you go in the front room please I need to tell you all something”. She kept asking what and all I was saying was go in there please. She did and I followed.
I sat down and I looked at my mum and dad, they both looked scared, I was shaking and tears started to build, when I started to talk. “I… I…” A tear fell down my face and I thought in my head you have to do this Tilly, you can’t back out now. “I… I…” I continued. My mum and dad kept looking at me “I have been self-harming” I blurted out. My mum looked sick and shocked, my dad looked disappointed. It didn’t look like my brother was feeling anything, he just looked straight ahead. “Why, for how long, what with” my dad and mum said at the same time. “I don’t know, a few months, scissors and razors… I’m sorry”. That’s when my mum left the room, I looked at my brother and was asking him to talk to say something he looked at me and said “I don’t know what to say”. I could tell then he was disappointed in me. I failed them, I was fourteen and I had been cutting myself.
I’m sure my mum and dad felt to blame for it, but it wasn’t really spoken about in the house. Nothing changed. I still kept myself to myself. I still cut myself. I went back to school on the Monday after (I told them on the Saturday night). I approached my teacher with a small smile on my face “I have something to tell you” I said. She told me to go and see her at lunch, so I did. I walked in and said I told them and she had such a big smile on her face “really, when?”. On Friday I replied. “I’m so proud of you Tilly” and she hugged me. Not a lot happened after then. I kept on cutting myself, I still do, two years later. It’s all little things put together now I suppose. I’m not sure, I haven’t really thought about it. I stopped not so long ago but things with a lad, family, and friends triggered me to start up again. In August I told my Aunt that I self-harm and she has been so supportive of me. No matter what I say to her she still loves me the same and nothing will ever change that.
Your probably thinking that things are getting better for me? I wouldn’t say so. I have been feeling suicidal, I still cut, I feel alone, I have friend problems, problems with my family and I am really not happy right now — but things can only get better, right? I hope so.
What I wanted to say to people who have been thinking about starting to self-harm: Don’t. It’s a downward spiral and once you’re in it it’s very hard to get out. If you feel like you could start self-harming or you feel alone, talk to someone. A teacher, a relative, anyone. But remember everyone — you’re not alone.
I hope you enjoyed reading my story. Before I go I would like to say to everyone that has put poems and other stuff on this website, you all have amazing talent. Last but not least: Go on in life and Shine.
If anyone would like to chat send an e-mail to email@example.com and I will get back to you.