This I Believe

Lauren - Avon, Connecticut
Entered on January 24, 2008
Age Group: Under 18
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This I Believe

Three years ago, I was at my mind’s end. I had no friends, a learning disability and six years of harassment under my skin, all of which were eating me alive.

My thoughts turned to suicide as the only option to ease that pain, and drawing on my arm with a sharp object became an addiction that I was not willing to let go of.

When my parents found the scars, I faced a condemning sentence of what they called “HELP,” but I didn’t see it that way.

The pills did nothing, only making my body and mind number for hours at a time, but there was an itch that haunted me every time I saw my arm.

I wanted to cut.

I wanted to take something, anything, and drag the tip across my arm, just to ease that itch and gain back the little sanity I had left after my six years of solitude.

My hero came one night, when I was back in the room I spent eighteen hours a day in. That hero was in the form of a small, flat, circular piece of plastic with the words “Razorblade Romance” printed across the pink top. It was a HIM CD. One of the dozens of CDs that I had collected over the years, but never really listened to.

I heard it loud and clear then.

“Is it so hard to believe our hearts,

Are made to be broken by love.

That in constant dying lies,

The beauty of it all.

My darling won’t you feel,

The sweet heaven in,

Our endless cry.”

The frontman’s words were smooth and deep, his voice lulling me into a state of bliss I had not felt since I was back in my old town as a little third grade girl, six years before.

These love songs buried in rock and roll music were drawing me out of my reverie. I wanted to listen, to hear more of what that voice had to say, and think of what those words meant to me.

I had a new addiction; a new obsession. CD after CD I listened, entranced with the new feelings that grew in my chest with each song I heard.

Music saved my life. Now, it IS my life.