I am worth being happy.

I can’t even begin, but I know I can’t ever end. I was born broken, and I grew up a tangle that twisted inwards and ruined everything I thought, loved, and touched. I learned that my feelings were nothing and of little importance in comparison to everything bigger in the world. By the age of 8, I was telling people I was going to kill myself. I had barely experienced the world, and already I was ready to leave it forever. I was neglected. I was crying myself to sleep and holding knives over my wrists, watching the blue blood pump through veins under paper thin skin and begging that I had the strength to see the blue turn red and raw. I kept this up for almost six years. And then my sick dream became reality. I was carving into my flesh, leaving traces of my anger and hurt for everyone to see. It throbbed in class, and people noticed and saw, but I was too broken to be approached. I was terrified and I was smart and stupid. I was addicted to my own pain. But I was 15 and strong enough to ask for help. I was past rock bottom, I had dug below bottom and created my own personal hell where I thought nobody else could stoop so low. But by asking for help and telling somebody, which was the most difficult thing I had ever done, I brought them to my level, and I was admitted into a rehabilitation center. I was helped. And taught to notice the loved ones around me and the help available. I was released and my eyes were opened. My healing process is in no way close to being over, but i have support now, and I still struggle with my cutting addiction and my depression and suicidal thoughts, but now I know how to handle them and get help. I am stronger than I ever thought I would be. Which is why I want to help. I want to share my story and help others. Because we alone know what it is like to be broken beyond repair, and now, I know what it is like to be broken and to be healed, and i want to help others. It matters, you matter. We matter. You are not alone. 1-800-273-8255.