It was a bread knife.
Long, cold, and serrated.
Just what I needed.
I still remember the first time I pulled that knife across my arm; I had been so, so stupid, doing it where everyone could see. It was so obvious, the four gashes on my forearm. It had been near impossible to hide them. My mom noticed the long sleeved hoodies, but I think she was too afraid to ask. It just escalated from there. I moved from bread knives, to scissors, to my shaving razor, to the box cutter my mom left lying around one day. It’s still tucked away in my box of special things.
I never really told my mom that I cut myself. It was never a topic of discussion, and I don’t think it ever will be. My friends know, though. I told my four closest friends, and they were scared at first. It’s what really drove them away from me, and to this day, I regret putting that wedge in our previously uncomplicated friendship. Ronnie caught me first; he saw the angry red lines from my shaving razor on my forearm, and the few on my hand. He got really mad at me. Now that I look back on it, I know that he was afraid for me. At the time, I thought he hated me. He refused to associate with me; he was my oldest friend, and it hurt to have him turn his back. He threatened to tell my mom and his mom if I didn’t stop right away. I promised him I would; his mom was more of a mom to me than my mom was, and I couldn’t have her knowing.
It was the very first lie I ever told Ronnie. I just began cutting where he would never see. My upper arm on my shoulders; my thighs; my ankles. They’re scarred now too. Somehow, Ronnie found out; he never told my mom or his mom, though, but he told the rest of our friends. Nick, Ronnie’s younger brother and another of my best friends, caught on too. Nick stuck by me though, as well as Ivan. Ivan was young, though, and I don’t think he really ever understood anything that happened until later on. Ivan’s older brother Ian, though, he’s the one that cared the most. He cried when found out; he was a year older. He knew what I was doing, and though he didn’t know why, he didn’t want me to hurt myself.
For a bit of background, I truly, truly loved Ian. And for a few moments, I thought that Ian loved me. So for Ian, I stopped. And when I stopped, Ronnie started talking to me again. And, somehow, Ian began to fall for me like I had fallen for him.
Ian had been my everything. He was the very first guy I cared about past friendship. I truly think I loved him at one point, but now that love has turned into regret and, yes, a little bit of hatred. But at that moment in my life, he was perfection. Tanned skin, dark brown hair, light brown eyes; the clear, liquid brown that could mesmerize me for hours. He was what I wanted.
I was only 13, and he was 14. However, my feelings for him started when I was 11. To understand the pain that comes along with Ian, you need to understand the love. You need to understand that I cared for him more deeply than I had ever cared for anyone ever before, and you need to understand that he used that love against me. You need to understand that, when I was 13, and he told me that he liked me too, I felt like I was on top of the world. And then you need to understand how Ian threw me to the ground and broke my happiness three days later.
After two years of infatuation from afar, I worked up the courage and told Ian that I liked him a lot. I don’t think, at this moment, that you understand just how much this boy meant to me. But when he told me that he liked me too, and he asked me out, I could never have been happier than I was at that moment in time. The first day of being together, we were all smiles. He showed me off to his older friends, he took me out to lunch, and he made me feel so extraordinary that I don’t think my smile left my face for the entire day. The second day, we went to the movies; Mission Impossible 3. It was great; to this day, I haven’t watched it since.
It was the third day, though, that’s worth mentioning. Because it was the day that my entire life began to fall apart.
Ronnie and I had been fighting again. We always fought; we were so alike that our minds constantly clashed. And that day, we really got into it. We had just gotten dropped off at school, and we were arguing by my locker. I called him a jackass. It was the first mean thing I’d ever really said like that, and I could tell he was hurt. And so, angered at my temper, he shouted,
“At least the person I love isn’t using me to get someone else!”
I was taken aback; I demanded to know what the hell he was going off about. So, still fuming at me, he said,
“The only reason Ian asked you out is because he wanted to make Jenny jealous, they started dating yesterday, so he’s been leading you on!”
I didn’t believe him; not for the life of me. I knew it was a trick to piss me off. So, to prove to him that he was lying, I texted Ian.
Ronnie says you’re dating Jenny, is he lying?
We waited there. I think we were both late for class, but I really didn’t care. A few minutes later, I got the reply.
Oh yea, I forgot to tell you. I asked her out yesterday.
I think Ronnie understood just how shocked and hurt I was, because he didn’t say anything. He just cleared his throat, and I was left to fall apart. I didn’t go to my first class; I was so incredibly hurt, I couldn’t function. I cried in the bathroom all period. Finally, I texted Ian back.
Did you just use me to get her?
It was as if he didn’t even care. All he said was yea.
I pulled myself together for class; if my mom found out that I missed two classes, she’d be furious. But I just felt numb all day. Finally, during the last period of the day, my friend Barbie had class with me, and I told her everything. Furious, she took my phone and texted Ian,
Did you even like me at all?Â
Right away, he sent back,
Not really.
That did it for me; I was crushed. Immediately, I broke down. My friend Barbie was worried about me; she’d never seen me so upset. I told her not to worry, I would be okay eventually. She left it at that; Ronnie and Nick’s mom took the three of us home that day, and I remember getting dropped off at my house. I think Ronnie said something about coming over later, but I didn’t hear him really.
I texted my close friend Becca. I was really upset; I’d never been so upset with my life, even when I had started cutting. So when I texted her that I felt like giving up, and that I was done trying, I think she saw the truth behind my words.
So when I got a text back from Ian instead of Becca, I was more startled. Though I don’t remember the exact words, I know exactly what he said, if that makes sense.
You’re pathetic. It’s not like it was a big deal or anything. You’re just being a baby about it. I never liked you. You aren’t pretty, you’re not funny, you’re not anything but annoying and whiny. Get over yourself.
So immediately I told Becca; a moment later, she sent me their conversation on MySpace:
Becca: I’m worried about Rae (my nickname). She sent me a text saying she’s done trying, and I think she might hurt herself again (Becca knew about my cutting).
Ian: She’s being dramatic. She won’t do anything. And if she did I wouldn’t care at all. She’s doing this for attention. She doesn’t have the guts to do anything so stop worrying.
When I saw that Ian really didn’t care, that’s when I was done. I just gave up. I didn’t care any more than he did, and the overwhelming betrayal and pain I felt had taken over my body. I was on the computer; I googled suicide. I knew I wanted to do it at that moment, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to slit my wrists; I didn’t want to leave my mom and grandma (who I lived with at the time) a horrifying scene.
Pills. Pills were the answer.
I logged off the computer, and I had this calm feeling that overtook my body. I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t upset, i was just calm. I knew exactly what I needed to do.
I was home alone. My grandma was visiting a friend, and my mom was at work. I went to the medicine cabinet and grabbed three bottles- my moms pain killers, tylenol, and advil. I went into my mom’s room for some reason and sat on her bed. I poured all the pills out onto the bed- 60 pills in all, and went to get a glass of milk. I sat there for a moment, then texted Becca and said goodbye. Nothing else, just a simple goodbye. I didn’t bother texting Ian.
I had just picked up the first handful of pills when my phone went off. It was a text from Ian.
You’re so stupid. This is pathetic. You’re not doing anything, so stop being dramatic.
I paused for a moment, then set my phone down. I think I had the TV on. I don’t remember.
I put the first handful of pills into my mouth, took a steadying breath, and then took a mouthful of milk and swallowed. I felt each and every pill slide down my throat. I took two more handfuls, swallowing them quickly, and then sat there for a moment. I was going to die. And I was perfectly okay with that.
I got up. I put the pill bottles back, and then put the rest of my milk away, subconsciously saving it for later like I always did. And then I stood in my kitchen and stared out the window. I heard my phone going off but I didn’t care. It was a nice day; I put on my shoes and went for a walk. My stomach started to hurt.
I walked for about ten minutes until I got to this little area of wildlife in the back part of the neighborhood. Ronnie, Ian, Ivan, Nick, and I always went there to hang out when we were younger, and I figured that was as good of place as any. I made my way deep into the underbrush, found a nice bush, and curled up beneath it.
I woke up several hours later; it was about six at night when I heard the voices.
Nick and Ivan.
I sat up, and realized just how terrible I felt. My stomach was killing me, and it was hard to see straight. I felt like I was going to die; then I remember that’s what I had wanted. I got shakily to my feet; I wanted to see two of my best friends one last time. I stumbled out of the bushes and surprised them. Â I must have looked like shit.
They were going to Walgreens, so I tagged along. Every moment I felt worse and worse. It was so hard to walk back to their house that I almost couldn’t. When I got there, we went to the basement. Ronnie was there; he told me he was sorry about earlier, and I told him it was okay. I didn’t want to have any fights hanging over me. Nick saw I wasn’t doing too good. He pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong. I was losing it. I couldn’t function. Quietly, I told nick I overdosed on a bunch of pills and that I wanted to die. I didn’t wait for him to reply as I got up and went back home.
My mom says Ronnie called her. I’m guessing Nick told him right away. I just remember falling asleep on my bed and being shaken awake by my grandma a while later. My mom had called her and she came home right away. My mom called the ambulance as she raced home. Somehow, word got out. I don’t believe it was Ronnie or Nick, I really don’t. I always have, and always will, believe it was Ian until I’m proven otherwise. I got a lot of texts on my phone that night. From all theses people I didn’t ever talk to anymore. I remember texting my friend Kelly. She said I was stupid, and she was mad at me. I told her I didn’t care.
I was put in the ambulance. I had my stomach pumped; for those wondering, it’s one of the most painful and sickening things ever. They shove a tube down your throat and suck out your insides. I remember having to drink liquid charcoal. Nothing else has ever tasted that vile. I threw up all night.
After that, I changed a lot. I have never tried to kill myself again. At first, I didn’t try because I was scared, and I didn’t want to get in trouble. I told myself all the time that I was suck a fuck up, I couldn’t even kill myself properly. But as time went on, I realized how lucky I was not to kill myself.
There are times where things really suck, but I’m better now. I still cut myself sometimes, and I’m not proud of it. One day I’ll stop completely.
I’m a freshman in college now. I’ve got a few really close friends, and dozens of people I can call my friends. My friends from middle school know what I did, but my friends in high school and now in college have no idea. None of them know what I did, and maybe one day I’ll tell my best friend, but for now it’s just a part of my life that I will never repeat.
Ever.