First Post

So this is my first post. Not really sure what to write right now and I apologize in advance if it gets long.

The first time I can remember feeling depressed and wanting to die I was in fourth or fifth grade. I wanted to die, I had a plan, and I almost went through with it. I was standing there in my bathroom about to do it and the next thing I remember is being on the floor crying. I have no idea what stopped me. Around that time I was also self harming. Not cutting, but if I felt angry or stressed or overwhelmed I would dig my nails into my skin. I would pick at the scabs later. When I think back I’m not even sure why I started hurting myself or why I wanted to die. And I have no memory of this, but my mother has told me that when I was little I would hit myself if I got angry. Something I still do today. If I get mad and want to hit someone I hit myself instead.

Fast forward to middle school and something happened in my life that I did not know how to cope with. I won’t go into the details of what happened right now, but I started cutting with safety pins. By the time my mom found out what was happening and got me to see a counselor both of my forearms were covered in cuts. I was cutting everyday. I used to go to sleep at night wishing I wouldn’t wake up in the morning. I was getting horrible headaches. I felt like there was a huge whole in my chest and it hurt. I felt cold and empty. I felt numb. I started writing poetry and the topics were dark and depressing. I have a yearbook from about a year before all that happened someone who I asked to sign it wrote “Stop laughing for everything LOL.” Well, I stopped laughing.

I have since then continued to struggle with depression and self harm. I get depressed and I start to think that there is no one who cares about me. “You’re worthless. No one cares about you. You’re annoying. They would be better off without you. The cuts on your arms are disgusting. No one could ever like you. No one could ever love you. No one cares so you should just die.” Those are the kinds of things I tell myself. Or maybe it’s just depression whispering all these things in my ear. I don’t want to believe them, but sometimes I do.

Around the time I graduated high school is when my cutting got bad. I stopped using safety pins and started using broken glass. I remember kinda freaking out and breaking a mirror in my room. I keep pieces in my room in case I need them.

I turned 21 today. The first thing that happened this morning was I woke up crying and freaking out because of a dream I had. I should have been keeping tally marks for how many times I’ve had dreams about this person over the past however many years. Gotta be in the double digits by now. That’s kind of depressing. And of course I think that person doesn’t care either.

I keep thinking that I want to give up on everyone. Just stop talking to them because I think they won’t care and won’t miss me anyway. I think about deleting my Facebook, which is my only way of staying in contact with some people. Though we don’t contact each other. Except for today. People I haven’t spoken in years for some reason post “Happy birthday!” on my timeline. But mostly these people just sit there on my friend list.

There is this one person that I know used to care. I have put my trust in them and I believe them. But do they still care now? Probably not.

I forgot what I was going to say next…

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to get amnesia. If I had no memories would I still be depressed. If I didn’t the bad stuff, could I be happy and not feel scared? I think I’m scared to get close to people. My family moved around and I had to say goodbye to a lot of people. Goodbyes can be really painful.

I don’t know. I think that’s all for today.