Ich falle in nichts, alleine und in die Schmerz

Copyright, AmyPain

I fall into nothing, alone into pain.

I am seventeen and I have been cutting since the ninth grade, although at that point in time it was pretty much purely for attention. I stopped until about the middle of the tenth grade. My cutting, starving, and beating myself is caused by many things, including my homosexuality, which my mother and her boyfriend strictly disagree on, and claim that it’s of the devil.

Throughout my entire elementary school career, I never had friends. I was ostracised because I was taller than them all, I wore glasses, I wore shabby hand me down clothes because we didn’t have enough money. Pretty much everything about me was disliked by all. My family also moved a lot, which caused me to enter schools in the middle of the year, when the “cliques” had been decided and the friendships already formed. No matter what I did, no one liked me, and I was bullied and called names and tortured. As horrible as it was, I never felt too badly about it at the time, because I suppressed everything. Every stare, every push, every name… I pushed it all deep down into the danky doomslums of my soul, not to be retrieved for many years.

When I was in the ninth grade, I met a girl named Lizzard, she was everything I wanted in a friend, a rebel, she was her own person. And I fell in love with her. I didn’t know it at the time, because I tried hard to suppress it, but that was the first girl I ever loved romantically. She of course, did not know, because I didn’t come out until much later. I began cutting that year, and then stopped until the next school year. Then I began cutting badly, only on my thighs and breasts, because it is less noticeable, seeing as I do not wear shorts or skirts. Today I still am an SI’er, I cut, I bruise, I use food deprivation to harm myself, so many things. I have been in two psychiatric wards and have been 51/50’d three times. I have horrible mood swings in which one minute I will want to get help and know I can get better, the next I don’t care, and the next I want to die. All in the span of ten minutes. It is horrible. My mother denies everything about me, from my self injuring to my homosexuality.

And It’s amusing, somehow, that even though this story is long, it is nowhere near the entire story, nor is it anywhere near being complete. If you would like to talk, e-mail me or IM me at


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