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Jane

My Story

Copyright, Jane

I’m a 13 year old music loving, typical English girl. And I have been cutting my flesh since I was 11. I first started because of my family and the abuse I get off my parents. That has calmed down but I am still cutting. A handful of people know and I am slowly losing friends because of it. It is something I no longer wish to do. I’m just too weak to give up. I’ve also tried to kill myself before. I came to a point of such despair that I just had to leave. I’m kinda glad it didn’t work though. I need help.

I Didn’t Cheat

Copyright, Jane

Reading these stories kind of makes it frightening to think about what I have done. I am a 15 year old girl who lives in a small city full of gangs, drugs, and all other worries parents warn about.

My first time I ever cut was a few months ago, and a lot of shit was happening. I was transferring high schools after attempting to fail due to absences at my first school, my friends were all doing tweak and offering it to me, I was taking between 20 to 25 caffeine pills to get a high, drinking non stop due to my dad and him wanting to kick me out, and much other complications. Those complications weren’t what set me off though, my friend who is a couple years older was having a fight with her family and she left down the street in her car, her sister and myself followed her and found her in an empty parking lot cutting her wrists with the doors locked, the blood draining from the slits above her small fists. This was the first time I ever saw anyone feel better after seeing blood, in a way it made me feel better to see that she felt better.

So the next commotion that came was my boyfriend accusing me of cheating on him. I tried to explain to him that I didn’t and that I would never be able to hurt him like that, and then he said he couldn’t trust me. He got off the phone hastily and didn’t call back. My tears started falling and I was unable to stop from shaking. I needed to do something to fix what was wrong. I first thought of my pills, I passed the bottle between my hands, not wanting to take them, but feeling the need for something to hurt physically. I was sick of thinking, sick of remembering the sound of his voice, the distrust, the memories of my dead brother and my dad hitting him, my mom just standing in the corner. I threw the bottle at the wall and ran to the kitchen to find a blade of any kind. If my friend can feel better by knives maybe it would work for me.

I took the knife to my room shut the door, sat on my bed, knees to my chest, rocking back and forth, the tears flowed uncontrollably as the blade slid across the backs of my arms and wrists. All I felt was the blood slipping across the flesh. Every pain that I was thinking fled my mind. A smile arose, the first time in weeks. The strange feeling of a red river comforted me when nothing else could. I sat on my bed for about three hours, the blade slicing, digging deeper and deeper into my skin. I flipped my arms over, I wanted to stop, the blood was coming and I couldn’t stop. It felt so good compared to what I was feeling before. I stayed up the entire next three day not eating, not talking, only sitting in my dark room crying and trying to prove to my boyfriend that I didn’t cheat.

The next time I saw my boyfriend I was wearing a long sleeve shirt to hide the cuts. I reached for something at his house, the sleeve pulled up, and a glimpse of red showed. He grabbed my wrist and forcefully I pulled away. The room went silent as he suddenly says nothing. He started asking questions and I didn’t know what to say. I just wished that I could have disappeared. Staying in his room tears falling from my eyes all I could do was sit and stay quiet until he would accept me for my flaw. Someday I hope he understands, that everyone understands, why I am like the way I am.

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Copyright, Jane

I self harmed for over a year, and I haven’t done so for over 2 months now. Sometimes I feel like I can’t cope without hurting myself, but I’ve realized that there are other ways to cope with my emotional pain. Self harm caused me to lose so many of the people that I loved, because they simply couldn’t understand my ways of dealing, and they left me. That alone is the one thing that has hurt me the deepest.

My biggest fear is that I will give in to the urges that plague me daily and I’ll cut again; but I try not to think about it too much. Life without self harm will be an enormous challenge, but it’s one that I am more than willing to take on. I hope, that all of you can one day take it on too.

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Copyright, Jane

I’m 13 and every time I fall in love I get hurt. Not one person hasn’t used me or cheated on me. They can’t tell me why either. So, I go through “life” wondering what is wrong with me knowing that nobody could ever love me. Well my story started 3 years ago and I was in 6th grade and there was this guy in 8th grade and I liked him a lot and I could never figure why. So, one day one of his friends came up and asked me if I liked him and I said yes so maybe he would come and talk to me. A couple of days later he came to my house and he kept doing that off and on for about a year and he was my only “friend”. And one day he said he was moving and he did about a month later and he didn’t say bye. So that was my first suicide attempt because he was my only friend I loved him even. Then about four messed up relationships later (one year) he came by on May 30, 2002 and I was so happy and he came over every day in the summer and I thought he loved me but he was using me (long story). We were together for about 7 months. He broke up with me on our 8 month and well by then I had 14 suicide attempts. Then I started talking to one of his friends and I thought I would never love again but the first hour I talked to him I fell in love with him (long story). Then I really wanted to be with him because I loved him and he said he loved me (well that was a lie). So I asked him if he would let me be his girlfriend and he made me fell like crap then he said yes and I was so happy. But then 4 days later he broke up with me and he said he would get back with me in a week when he came home. So, he came back and nothing. I asked him about and he said have I broken the promise yet I said no but he did. Then for the past two days he got really mad at me (I dunno for what reason) and made me feel like shit (did I tell you that I was bipolar and manic depressive). And I still love him with all my heart and he used me. I told him everything and I put my trust into him. He made me so happy I actually wanted to live and I felt like I was worth something and then he hurt me like no other. So, my plan is to stab myself in my heart and write a letter to him in my blood on the wall just to say thank you and tell him what he meant to me and how much I loved him. I love you honey mine. Bye Bye. And just remember no man is worth your tears.

 

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