Copyright Agnes

My name is Agnes, and this is my story. I know my English isn’t that good, I’m from sweden and I don’t go to school so much anymore. But I’ve done my best and I hope you’ll understand some of the things I want to explain. If someone wants to talk, you can e-mail me.

Do you ever doubt that having faith makes any sense?

I’ve been a self injurer since I was about eleven years old. Just thinking about it makes me feel really bad. Girls at that age should be happy, not being alone and hurting themselves. I remember I started burning myself with burning sticks. When I was about twelve years old I attempted suicide and after a while I began to cut myself. First it was pretty innocent, but soon I began to cut deeper and went from broken pencil sharpeners to razorblades. It took about two-three years until my parent discovered my scars. They sent me to a psychologist and I ate many different pills, but none of them helped me. I don’t know why I started cutting and burning myself. I think I just wanted to cope living, and I couldn’t stand beeing me and being alone.

I lived in a broken home, with a very angry father and a quiet mother. My mother couldn’t cope being my mother, and I was alone most of the time. How many people I had around me, I couldn’t help feeling so alone. I didn’t demand the attention I deserved from my parents, and when I was sad none of them was there for me. I tried to console myself by reminding me that it would pass, but deep inside of me I knew that this pain would last and that our family couldn’t be fixed. When I was almost thirteen years old my parents finally got divorced. I really belived that it would get better, now that they didn’t live together anymore, and in one way it did. My mother was very relieved and felt better and for a little while I felt good again, I felt safe and loved and I stoped hurting myself. I really thought that my family finally was fixed.

But it all fell apart when my father moved to a new house and I realised how naive I’ve been. I don’t know what happend to him, maybe he got depressed. He became even more angry and violent. I’ve always been afraid of him, but know I almost couldn’t be in the same room as him. I had to take care of my youngest sister, cause he always lost his temper when she couldn’t do everything perfect. It was about now, when I was almost fourteen, I started to get really depressed and couldn’t survive without cutting. My life seemed to be over, and all I could think about was how to make this pain end. I never wanted to die, I just wanted the shit to stop.

Many more thing happend in my life, that made me slash my wrists. I’m sorry I can’t talk about them at all, not even anonymous over the internet. I guess I’m afraid what will happen to me if I tell. I don’t want to see myself writing those horrible things. I hate myself for beeing weak, because I really want to talk about those things. Now I’m almost sixteen and I’m still a self injurer, and I can’t stop. Some people makes it sound so easy to stop, but for me it’s really hard to cope without cutting. I’ve attempted suicide three times now, and thinking about it makes me feel really pathetic and hopeless. I can’t even kill myself. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to die there. I’m lucky to have my beautiful sister, Camilla. Family for me has nothing to do with genes. A sister for me is someone I know I belong to, that loves me no matter what. Without my dear sister I’m sure I wouldn’t be alive by now. She is the most valuable thing in my live, nothing matters like she does. Thanks to her I’m still breating.


Copyright Agnes

I used to cut myself and stub cigarettes out on my arms. I didn’t eat, didn’t sleep (well, at least I tried to), OD’ed quite a lot. But well, now I’m clean. The hardest thing about stopping is that SI is kind of addiction and if it’s hard to quit smoking, why shouldn’t it be hard to stop cutting? So actually the ways of how to get rid of it are quite similar. I moved to another place, I changed my habits, school, friends — everything. I know it’s a high price but I think it’s worth it, because you get your own life back. So yeah, it’s been quite a long time since I cut myself — almost a year or so and I don’t feel any urge to do it again, so I hope it’s over. I still have scars and it’s still a bit hard to walk around with a t-shirt, but I’m working on it, because yeah, well, people have to understand that self harm is an indicator of serious problems and that they should care about self harmers.

Ah, well…

The World can suck, but still it’s better to enjoy this reality as much as possible and not suffer from it. Take care everybody! Good luck!


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