Have you ever been so depressed that you found a way to release it? A new way to “cause” this pain to disappear? A way that if not followed in the right direction you could die? Well i’ve been there, except i didn’t go with drugs, alcohol, or sex. No, i found a way that would casue me pain but would excuse teh pain of my depression. I was 13 when i frist started cutting.
At first my depression wasn’t so bad. It was manageable. But slowly as the months kept coming, i was getting buried into something i had only heard about. You may question why on earth would i consider cutting myself? Feared that one day i might cut so deep that i could possibly end my life? Well to be honest, my life wasn’t as perfect as you would think it was… it all began with a boy…!
Around late September early October i had met the guy of my dreams. He was older, mature, sweet, and hotter than hell. Though it was a long distance relationship it didnt matter.i finally felt happy. But something was waiting for me around the corner. At first you could imagine, as any couple would be. We were lost in happiness of each others company. But slowly i grew obsessive you could say. When i couldn’t speak to him i would often get sad and upset. Then it would increase rapidly. I wore more black eyeliner than usual and made it even darker than necessary. I was always on the fringe of crying, I thought there wasn’t an end to this horrific nightmare. I kept feeling that everything was my fault, feeling that everyone hated me. Feeling that would people care if i no longer existed? Questioning my sanity i couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with me…but that all changed.
By the time i had got out of the hospital after my surgery and back to my normal depressed self. Than “BAM”! One day in late November, a cold foggy morning. A day that i still regret, my friend Alyssa and I were talking under the arch way towards the main entrance to our school building. She had told me that she was with a guy named Carlton who i distincly despised. Once she had brought his name into it i regretted every breathe i spent on her. Alyssa had told me that she did drugs the other day. But not just any drug… but Roofies, a date rape drug. This moment caused our friendship to stand still. I was enraged with her and him. I started yelling and screaming at her. But thankfully my safety pin was at home. Because of her incident, i had begun to cut again. I went home that day after school, walked upstairs to my room. And pulled out a small brown box which held my earrings in. I opened it up and took out my safety pin. I dug it deep into my left wrist. At first it stung, but later it eased teh pain from Alyssa.
The “Addiction”… I thought that heroine or cocaine was addictive, though I never treid the stuff. I’ve seen what it can do. But in my case cutting was my obsession,my addiction, my best friend. The smallest thing would cause me to inflict a wound on my arm. And the best part was no one knew about it. My tiny, dirty, little secret. It wasn’t until one January morning at school my deepest darkest secret and my best friend would be revealed. I was talking to my friend Jade…that was until my friend Helena decided to grab my arm and pull me into her for a hug. Her nails dug into one of my cuts. I winced at the shear agony racing up my arm, throbbing my left wrist was unbearable. As I tried to hold back tears already swelling up in my eyes, she pulled back and looked me in the eyes and asked if i was ok or if anything was wrong? I replied through my gritted teeth and said “No”. Nothing was wrong. She wasn’t convinced, so she took my hand and shoved my sleeve up. Her eyes widened as she shrieked in absolute horror.
At the moment they freaked out, yelling and smacking me. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near sharp objects. I was on constant supervision. You kind of could figure that my supervision and deperssion did increase. It was a sunny but cold day in early Februrary. Helena had come over to my ouse and I was on the computer talking to my friend Wes. When suddenly I had an episode, I felt the need to end my life… I was suicidal. Helena was sitting next to me, but i got up out of my chair and walked into my kitchen. I grabbed our black handled stainless steal knife and held it to my throat. Right at the chugular vein, my hands trembled both from utter fear and excitement, the cold steel against my clammy skin. At the moment before i would pull the knife across my throat and watch as my blood oozed out my body and die, Helena walked in the kitchen. She saw what i had in my hand and where it was placed, it took her a moment to register what was going on then she started to tell me that if i did go through with suicide that it would kill Mike, Chasidy, Jade, Herself, and most of all my family. I stopped to think about what she was saying. I lowered my arm, and she took the knife and set it on the counter. I fell against the sink cabinets and started sobbing. Helena fell down beside me and took me in her arms and started crying as well. It was my epiphany. My mind showed my little sister crying and scarred forever, my little borther lost and not knowing what to do right in life… I couldn’t hurt my siblings, the ones i cared for so much.
Though we kept it a secret from my parents, when they asked me what was wrong I simply replied nothing. I just got in a fight with a friend. Helena and I never spoke of my episode ever again. But slowly as months passed by i finally had been subduing my depression. Finding healthier ways to release my anger, I promised my friends I woulndn’t cut anymore. Not until recently that it returned… around late March my parents got into a huge fight about who should’ve been the one to tell me or convince me to start taking birth control, that night while they raged at eachother I took my friendly, familier, black safety pin and cut agian. Yes i suffered the consequence from my freinds then next morning but I couldn’t take it anymore. After a few months of being totally subdued of my depression and cutting, my habit returned, choking on my tears my arm started to bleed again.
Now here I stand 14 years old and about to go to high school. I’m still slightly depressed, but I’m only human. I believe that self-destruction isn’t always the best way to solve your problems. It’s not healthy, believe me I would know. It worries friends, family. Not to mention it causes hideous scars that never go away. In fact it only makes them worse. Yeah at times I regret cutting, but I couldn’t think of another way to express it. But because of my parents fight and my self-mutilation I stand here before everyone, though they may not know it but I go to counseling for depression. I believe that you shouldn’t self-mutilate yourself because your problems are over whelming. Try enlisting in sports so you can run off your steam. Or enroll into counseling and talk to someone who is neutral, and listens only to what you have to say.Trust me it helps to have someone you can spill all your thoughts to so you dont keep it bottled up inside waiting for it to explode. Or better yet write poems, everything helps. And keep in mind your friends are there for you.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.