Cuts and Scars

Copyright, Kristy

I read about people who had cut themselves before but I had never really expected it to happen to me. I never did, but then when I was eleven, I had gotten depressed. Why? Well, I was in sixth grade at the time and I had thought about killing myself for a while because I hated my life and I was so stressed out. My friends had convinced me not kill myself because they told me all the things that could happen if I had died. I thought that I was OK because I had my friends to help me through, but I was wrong. Very, very, very wrong.

During my seventh grade year, I had gotten really “depressed” because my so-called friends had started to talk bad about me behind my back. I was always a nice girl and I never really had problems at school, but this was different. The guys in my class would always cheat off of me on my homework and they would make fun of me behind my back as well. But there were these two guys in my class that would always make fun of me right in front of my face. In my mind, all I thought was “Those fucking bastards! Why the hell are they making fun of me. I’m fucking standing right here in front of you! I’m not deaf, you know!” I didn’t understand why they would do that to me because I had always helped them with their homework before and now that they’re making fun of me, it made me want to just take out a gun and kill them both.

It was a liitle while later that I actullay did something. One of the guys (I’ll just call him Greg) started to tell me that I was the ugliest person in the whole world and that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I didn’t really do anything about that because he was just telling me that I was going to end up alone in my life and I didn’t really care because I already knew that I would. But the other guy (let’s just call him Timmy) was the worst. He told me that I was stupid and ugly. He would harass me buy telling me that I had big boobs and giant tits and he also told me that he wanted to suck on them. I was so pissed off that he had said that to me and plus he told all of his friends about what he wanted to do to me and then all of his friends would make fun of me as well. That just pissed me off! I just wanted to go and shoot them to their death. That’s what I wanted to do to him right there if I had a gun with me. Later on in the day, my friends heard about it and they told me not to do it either. I thought that I had their support about what Timmy had said aboutme , but I was, once again, wrong about that. When my friends herad about that they started to make fun of me as well. I was like “What the fuck’s the matter with you people? I’m your fucking friend and you’re taking his side! What’s the matter with you people!” I just didn’t understand why they would do that. I nearly killed myself. No wait, actually, when that happened I literally wanted to kill myself. I seriously did. When I got home, it was even worse because then I had my sister and my mom to deal with and that just made my day even worse than ever.

My mom is really uptight about weight and appearances (that’s because we’re Vietnamese and all they care about is beauty, appearances, and plastic surgery). Everytime I would be eating something, my mom would tell me not to eat so much becuase if I did then I would get fat and ugly and become obese. What a nice thing to say to your own daughter! And to top that off I had my sister. She always tells me that I have big boobs too and that if she was me, she would buy clothes with a lot of cleavage to show them off. I hated the fact that she would always tell me that. She would tell me all the things that she would do if she had my body, but I hated my body and I could careless what I do to it and that’s what I did. I went into my room and took out my mini dagger and cut my arm. I cut my left arm because i’m left handed and if I wrote with my left hand, no one would see them. I cried myself to sleep that night and the next day, during gym, all the girls saw my cuts on my left arm.

This one girl in my gym class (she’s vietnamese too) told me how stupid I was for doing that and the next thing I did to her was slap her in her face. I just walked over to her and slapped her across the face and said “Why don’t you just stay out of my fucking business? I don’t need some whore to tell me what to do with my body!” She seemed pretty upset and embarassed after that. I felt relieved though, but everybody would talk about what I had done during gym class.

I don’t really care about what had happened that day anymore, well, maybe I still do, but I was happy that I did cut myself. I went to the school counselor after that day at school, but I never really stopped cutting. I only cut myself because I felt so depressed, but the first time I cut myself I felt relieved about everything. So my only way of relieving stress and my emotions is by cutting and plus it shows me that I’m alive in some sort of way.

If you want to say something about my story just e-mail me at Tell me what you think. Am I just some crazy psycho girl with problems or am I normal? E-mail me if you want to say anything about my story.


Permanent location: