Copyright, Alana

I cut. I hate it. Every day I wish I never made that choice to cut. I am now addicted to it and if I’m alone for to long I want to cut because I become depressed. I cut on my legs, right above my knees so no one can see. A few of my close friends know I have cut but don’t know the last time I cut was yesterday. My mom does drugs. She is addicted. She has punched my dad, pushed him, thrown stuff at my sisters head, and tried suicide. I witnessed all of it including the suicide. (She overdosed and I saw her unconscious body.) She went to jail. She was on probation but then she called us and was taken to jail. She sent me a birthday invitation because my birthday is coming up and I broke down crying, it was the first time in about nine months I had cried. I had gotten so used to bottling everything up. I thought she would get better. Then she and my dad got in an argument at the jail and now it looks like she won’t get better. I really want my old mom back, the one that took me and my dog on walks, the one that stayed home every day, the one who helped me with homework, the one me and my friends could talk to about anything. So after that fight, I cut again. And if you haven’t cut and want to, don’t. You will regret it for the rest of your life. If you feel like letting go I suggest listening to the song “Hold On” by Good Charlotte. It helps me through a lot of stuff.


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