Copyright, Semi

February 2001, midnight-ish.

The living room in my house.

I’m sat alone crying my eyes out trying to figure out where it all went wrong. All I really knew was that it hurt so much inside. I wanted to scream and laugh and beat the walls, but it all seemed so pointless. I had no idea how I could make I it stop hurting inside, but I just knew that I had to do something. I stood up to get something to wipe my eyes and, because it was pitch black in the room, I tripped over something and hurt my arm. When I got to the light to switch it on I noticed blood on my arm; I’d accidentally scrapped myself with a pair of scissors that were on the sideboard. When I got back to my seat I just sat watching my arm bleed and bleed… I didn’t care at all, I was past caring about what happened to me.

After a while I realized that I was smiling, it confused me even more to realize this. I soon had it in my head that the cut and the blood was making me feel good, it was like all the pain on the inside was slowly spilling out to the outside and away from my body and my heart. I grabbed the scissors and made a deliberate cut next to the accidental one. I felt even better. Within 5 minutes my left arm was covered in blood.

The next thing I knew was that I was waking up in bed in the morning. When I rolled onto my left side I felt a twinge in my arm — I looked down and saw all the dried blood. I made my way into the bathroom and looked at my arm in the mirror. It was a weird sight for me. I washed my arm down and looked at it again… all I could see was cuts… Loads of cuts! I threw up!

I’m not going to go into details at this point about what made me feel so bad in the first place. All you need to know right now is that I was extremely miserable.

That morning was a school day so I had to go into school, it was better than moping around at home thinking over things over and over and over again! I was so upset and confused (as usual!)that morning and I didn’t pay any attention to what I was doing, so when I got to school and went to meet my friends in the usual place in the common room, and I sat down and took my coat off, with a no-sleeve top underneath, I got a very mixed response.

To start with I got a huge hug off of one of my friends. She was so helpful and lovely to me through the whole experience. Then one of my friends took me to the side and she looked so upset, she told me that I shouldn’t do it and I should stop. Then… My best friend… She did what I now know was not a good thing for me.

About a week later my sister came home and told me that some people had said something about me that wasn’t very nice. I asked her who and what they had said, and after a while of begging and pleading I finally got it out of her. My best friend and one of our other mates made a bet that if they could get me to slit my wrists and I died then they wouldn’t have to kiss each other, but if I did die then they had to.

It killed me inside. And the worst thing was that when I confronted her about it she just laughed it off.

After that it got all around school and people walked past me in the corridors mimicking slicing up their arms. So as you can imagine I felt terrible and did attempt to kill myself. After that I found it hard to get through a day without cutting myself or smacking my head against a wall.

I’m going to leave it there. There’s not much detail, but it was the worst time of my life. Since then I haven’t been so bad, but when I see certain people it hurts again.

Semi also sent the following poems:

Crying for Pain

Drowning in a sea
Of thick red water
The pain I feel
Is eased as I drown

Crushed by a tear
That will not fall
The tear that falls
As I drown in the sea

Ripped apart by the blade
Slashing my heart
As my heart dies away
My pain is lifted

I want to be held
Consoled till the end
Need the comfort of
Something other than this.

Suicidal Thoughts

Sat alone in a dark loveless room,
Hysterical cries escape my mouth,
Suicidal thoughts run around me
They beckon me to go with them
And I fight, struggle, win!
It’s no good, I feel bad again
How am I supposed to end this fight?
Should I end this fight at all?
Give in? Back down? Die?
The knife I see before me
Shiny to the point, it calls,
I answer it with a gift of blood
A generous gift I now see
I panic and swear never to repeat
But I crave the relief I felt then
The pleasant feeling of release
I get braver and weaker every time
My cuts grow larger, deeper, worse
How long until it gets so bad
I am hospitalised… or worse
Still can’t stop, I need the release!


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