I am 13. I don’t have a really sad story about being raped or having drug addict parents. which makes me feel like i honestly dont have a reason to feel depressed. but here i am. I dont know how it all started. but i remember a year ago when i started in a team for my favourite sport. i’m not going to say what it is because along with my name, it is very uncommon and i feel like that someone who knows me might read this. anyways, you might think, oh wow thats a really good thing! but only a few people did that sport and most people take it as a joke, so obviously i made the team. i was 11 and 140 pounds. i was only 5’0 which means i was pretty densely packed, in other words, fat. and i was clumsy, but quite flexible. but because i was clumsy, i wonder why i survived doing thÃ t sport. my parents are strict and they only endorse me doing something that is educational. and they paid for the team fee so that “i could quit the sport faster” yeah i almost did though. Everyone on the team was skinny, fast, oh and MORE flexible that i was. at competitions, i’d always be so much closer to last place than everyone else even if they had fallen in a routine. i just felt like i wasnt good enough at all for the team. i didnt feel good enough for anything. i felt so obese and so alone that i couldnt even describe here. and thats when i first cut. that first cut was more like a scratch. i bit my nails until they were knife sharp and ran then across my arm. it worked. i had blood stains everywhere even though it wasnt that deep. i felt painless and numb and i felt peaceful. i guess its kinda like building up the pressure in a balloon and suddenly letting it go.
when i cut i always try to find a reason behind why i did it so i wouldn’t feel like an attention seeking idiot. so my reason was kinda mathematical. lets say the pain i felt (emotionally) was 10 and i can’t handle that. i also cant decrease the amount of pain that i feel. so therefore, i let some pain, lets say 6, onto my skin as cuts. I would only need to feel 4 of the emotional pain i was drowning in.
in the fall, my parents enrolÅ‚ed me into a top notch prep school. when i had walked into the school, everyone i met was amazingly smart or athletic. so not me. everyone was smarter than me and i’d always fall into the little net of the least smartest students. why did i even get into the school? how? what?! one guy was a published author, one was some signed actress, one girl was a national math champion and one was like this super soccer star. yeah and i barely fit into a uniform yeah. basically, the school brought my self esteem way down.
To make matters worse, i had a horrible cousin. my family went to denver to visit her last summer, and all she would do was make fun of how overweight i was. my parents didnt care because my cousin never stopped kissing up to them. When my parents told her to take care of me when they went out, she hit me and called me things i’d hate to put in here. she threatened to leave me somewhere on the streets and she said my parents wouldnt care anyways. she said it’ll be a weight lifted off of their lives. pun intended. the week i got back home i didnt remember a night thout blood stained sheets and pillowcases dampened with tears.
I had tried to commit suicide also, and i’m seeking the least painful and shortest way. i had tried hanging, until my scarf could take my weight and dropped myself. i had tried to make it look like an accident once at sports training i had thrown myself off of the thing (it was basically the only thing for the sport so I’m not saying it. its 4 feet or so off the ground but its springy and i had to jump off.. make that 10 feet off the ground) but i only had gotten a fractured wrist and a carpet burn on my face. i also tried to take my dad’s pills but i also had a throat infection which meant it was hard for me to swallow, so i had to spit them out.
I am currently 4 days clean and a week free from starving my self. 16 minutes clean of suicidal thoughts and not even one second clean of tears. nobody knows what i’ve been through yet so i thought confessing to a whole bunch of relatable strangers might help. i’m trying to stop cutting but i can’t resist the urge when it comes. and i just do feel like the world can do without me.
My only other outlet to all this other than cutting is drawing. i signed up an instagram account for all my drawings and the encouraging comments are what replaces the love all my classmates get that i dont. and the hate, well, that was predictable. the only problem is, is that my parents think drawing is a waste of time and pencils and paper (obviously they think that) and also now that people like my drawings on instagram, they want me to draw them, and if i dont, they send hate.
no pretty faces here, no thin bodies here, no real smiles here. my cousin is still close to my parents, closer than i am, im still on the sports team, and im under that unbelievable stress of strict parents, greedy followers, teachers and the pretty little backstabbers who are not my friends.
oh and if you’re still reading, let me hug you.