My Story

Copyright Brittni

I started to cut this year, I am fourteen years old. But my trying to kill myself started when I was twelve. I think I wanted to get away from all the hate and pain in the air between my mom and dad. Even though they were divorced, things on their sides weren’t going so hot. My dad got remarried and hit his, ex-wife now, in front of my younger sister and I. That hit me up pretty good. I was scared of him ever since. My mom was going through some bad times, with money and all. I felt so out of place, especially since I just moved into a new town. I was depressed and my mom never payed any attention to how my sister and I felt. I was pushed away at school and treated like crap. I wrote suicide letters and all. Some of my family found a few, and they tried to get me to go to a counsellor. But I refused. I was in complete denial. It broke me down for days. Then a year later my mom was abused. That killed me. But surprisingly I didn’t do anything. A year later. My best friend, which I won’t say her name, she started to cut. I was so upset, I couldn’t believe it. We fought over this forever, we as in her, another friend, and I. A month or so after she was doing it. I started too. It was right after school ended. My last year of junior high out the door. It started on my arms and worked its way down to my legs. They weren’t bad I guess. But then everything went wrong. My best friend and I were no longer friends. My boyfriend and I broke it off, and he went to my best friend to get revenge on me. Then I had plenty of fights with them two. Whenever I would even think about him, I would clench my fists and hope to God that something good would happen. But it got worse from there. After I became OK friends with the girl who took my ex, three of my other good friends and I were drifting apart. Then my ex and I get or got into it every time we would try to talk to each other. They both broke up, but he kept trying to get back with me. Then make me feel bad after I made him feel bad. So in the end we always felt guilty. I finally got my three other friends back. But things for my mom wasn’t going so hot. She cheated on her boyfriend of four years because they always fought at home. And I mean always. There was never any peace and quiet. Then when she didn’t come back till 5:38 am one morning, a work night. He lost it (her boyfriend), and they yelled in their room, then he pushed her. After they moved to the bathroom, that which is across the hall from mine. My younger sister came into my room. He wouldn’t let her out for work. And refused to. So she pushed him. He fought back and held her to the wall. He ripped out a chunk of her hair, and he would throw her on the ground holding her by her neck. He knocked her unconscious for a while. And he kept doing it. Finally he let her out and they both fought outside. Then she left for her best friend’s house. That day I lost it and cut my leg open. Her best friend came and got my sister and I. That time we seen what he did to her. He has hand marks on her neck, and her face was swollen. She had bruises all over. It was heartbreaking. Then we went home a night after. The next morning he came back. My mom didn’t think and she agreed to open the front door and walk out if he got off our porch. Well, he ran inside with her. He kept calling her a whore. And I mean this pissed me off. He got her on her knees and made her do something. I seriously think you know what it is. It tore me up and made me cry and throw shit and rip my blankets with a pocket knife. He sat there and called her everything. Then he raped her. It tore me up again. I wish I could have did something. But she didn’t want the cops involved then. So far some things are good. I’m still working on stopping the cutting. And I’m getting there. I just need some help from my friends, which I am getting. I just need to learn. And so far I have did it only once for a month. That’s good.


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