I’m 23 years old. Female. Hispanic. I’ve always had suicidal thoughts for as long as I could remember. I know it first started when I was 12. Broke a pocket mirror in my mom’s car and tried to cut myself with the broken pieces. I remember taking a sewing class in school and I would pierce the needle in a pinch of the skin on my left forearm. After a while it didn’t hurt anymore. Being a teenage girl I understand my reasons for not feeling a ton of pain with my self inflicting pain. I was a constant victim of bullying throughout my entire grade school experience. Even from there things progressively got worse. Every friend I would make, was never really my friend. But that’s just the new generation. It was hard for me to truly be myself with people. My parents were always embarrassed with things I would say and always tell me to shut my mouth or think before I speak. You’re saying this to a 4 year old who isn’t mature to understand what you are saying. From there it was all I ever heard growing up. So in middle school, being myself was like being at home. I was a fat kid. And other fat people would pick on me. I just never had the confidence or the courage to stand up for myself so in the end I was always a loner. I remember buying myself a flower gram for valentines day at school just to feel special for myself, and as soon as I got it someone shouted from across the room saying I sent it to myself. At my age I cared way too much about what people thought. I still do now. I was even considered the school slut. Which was hard because I was a virgin. Well I hope mostly all the kids at that age were virgins. I was molested by an uncle at the age of 3. And my cousins even tried fooling around with me. My parents found one of my older cousins forcing my head up and down his penis when I was 7. They never did anything because he was mentally challenged. I was even raped on my 18th birthday by someone who was my sisters friend. I have an older sister and an older brother. Growing up we were never the closest of siblings, so even now at my age, it had its long term effects of believing that someone could care for me. I’ve been to 3 different high schools and 3 different continuation schools. I don’t have a ged or a high school diploma. I do have a boyfriend but seems like our relationship is dying more and more. I was happy in the beginning and thought to myself that this was the only guy I could give my all to. But he knew how I was feeling because I would argue with him about how I felt and he kept assuring me that I was being crazy and over thinking things. It wasn’t until this very night as I write this long post that he assured me that everything I was feeling was right. And it really hurt that he couldn’t be honest with me. I’m a complete mess and even looking back at this entire post is jumpy and off topic. But I’m just typing as I go because I’ve always been the type to not care about my happiness and make others happy first even if I was miserable. I was always last, so most of the people my age are starting their careers and graduating college while I’m unemployed and didn’t complete my high school education because of a relationship I was in during my high school years. After my 18th birthday I lost all respect for myself because I felt that if a guy couldn’t respect me enough to want to get to know me first then why should I even let them try to get to know me. I pushed away every chance I had of a relationship with just giving it up the first day. Eventually all the weight started pushing down on me. Now it’s hard to not look into someone’s eyes to see that what they first thought of me isn’t what they think of me isn’t now. And it hurts. I’ve cut myself on numerous occasions and even then it was just my escape and a way of coping with my inner, outer and past demons. And it’s nice to know that I’m not alone on what I feel. I’m sure other people have more interesting stories but not all of them are the same. My boyfriend is perfect and so is my family now but why do I still feel so empty inside. Like people ask if I’m okay but I feel like they’re not asking because they care. There’s so much more I want to write and it feels a ton more better to get it out and even have someone read and understand that this was and will continue being an emotional experience for me and others who’ve thought of suicide. It’s not easy to feel like this whatsoever and think that maybe someone will care enough to be a really good friend and not judge me. Or even for someone to take the time to read this and know that somethings aren’t always what they seem. Pretty girls have some baggage most wouldn’t believe. But I want to set an example for younger relatives of mine that what they feel isn’t a lonely feeling because we all need someone to talk to. I needed my mother when she would force me to be with my dad before their divorce. I needed a friend when they all decided to call me a slut when I gave them not one reason to. Things done to us in our past have severe long term effects that we don’t realize.
-The Corpse Princess