My Living Hell

Copyright Tiffanne

I would like to tell you why I do what I do. I have been SI’ing since I was six. I used to think my scratching of my arms was just a nervous habit, but it wasn’t. I realised that I wanted to hurt myself. You see, that’s when my parents got divorced. My twin sister had the same problem. I say had because she is dead now. She killed herself on our tenth birthday. That will be a nightmare I will never forget. She made a tape of what she did to herself. She slit her throat. That’s when it intensified. I am now sixteen. I have successfully killed myself twice only to be brought back afterwards. I slit my wrists both times. I have also attempted to end my life through overdoses but that didn’t work, that’s why I turned to slitting my wrists. I have numerous scars all over my body and expect there will be more probably even before I finish typing this. That’s how out of control this is. All through this pain I have never gotten help. Even though my mother knows. She doesn’t care as long as she gets enough sleep. While she is sleeping I am dying and she doesn’t even care. She cares more about my brother than me. I know you are probably looking for the happy ending by now, but I am here to tell you it doesn’t always come in this lifetime. If you would like to talk to me, e-mail me at: I don’t care what you want to talk about just if you need to talk I have been through it all, and what I have to offer may help, or it may not, all I can say is don’t give up like I did. Get help. I fear I am beyond help. But if any of you reading this are a psychologist of any sort, please e-mail me with encouraging words or at least the name of a good clinic.


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