For the past five years, all I could ever think about is “why me? Why do I have to be the person that goes through all this pain, and sadness. As time went on, I hoped that everything could get better. I hoped that all the things that was happening to me was only a one time thing. But then I noticed I was experiencing that kind of pain every single day. I prayed for guidance, and I gave little hints about what was going on but no one could hear my cry for help.
At the age of one, my mom passed away in a car accident and my dad went to jail for killing her in that car accident due to drinking and driving. My aunt adopted my two oldest sisters, and my younger brother. As if it wasn’t hard enough for her to raise her own, she raised us like we were her own. But the only thing was… I realized that it’s not how it worked when I grew older. She always sided with her own children, and scolded us for things that weren’t our fault. I felt like she wasn’t understanding how we felt. How many times did I get a beaten? How many times did I get a scold? I honestly don’t remember but I feel like it happened everyday. Till this day, we still get those scolding and occasional beatings. At the age of 13 I started going through depression. I honestly can’t remember how it started. I basically woke up and felt so sad and heartbroken and I didn’t know why. I was only 13 so I took in the feeling like a mutual feeling. Like it was normal to feel that way. As I got older, it got worse. At the age of 15, I started cutting. I was too scared to do the hurting with a real knife or anything sharp so I did it with pencil. But as time went by, and the emotional pain got more hard to bare with, the things I used got sharper. I didn’t realize that people could see the pain that I was going through physically so I kept doing it to cope with the pain that I thought was more excruciating. I had this journal where I would vent in. One day my sister found it, and as I walked through the garage door that afternoon she grabbed my arms to take a look at my cuts. I felt like she was invading my privacy. As if someone had pulled my underpants down. I didn’t care about what my family thought so I kept doing it. A year later, I wanted to die so bad I started starving myself and losing sleep. After all, I did have a blood disorder that required me to eat and sleep. Anyways, people at school were noticing that I was rapidly losing weight, and turning green. That somehow reassured me. It was like people were telling me that I was getting closer to dying. Somehow during the summer, I decided that I needed to be healthier. Of course I was healthier physically but mentally and emotionally, it was bad. But no one knew how bad it was. I honestly thought my life was over. A year later, I actually turned much more positive then I ever was. I had great friends, I looked good, and I finally got a job. But as soon as things started turning out well for me, it all came crashing down. I was cutting more than usual, and I couldn’t stand people in general. I wanted help so badly, I went to my sister, bawling my eyes out, telling her how much I couldn’t take it anymore as she told me she didn’t know what to do and that there were other people out there suffering even more than I did. But no matter if you told me that someone out there was suffering more than me, it wouldn’t make me feel any better. I feel like from that day onwards, things changed. There was no more hiding, no more fear that someone would find out. I felt free. But no matter how many times it got better, I could feel my mental stability rotting up inside day by day. I think the hardest part was getting someone to understand. I felt lonely, I feel like even though there was so many people around me, I had no one. I felt like only I knew how I felt and that was the hardest part. I feel like I don’t deserve happiness. So many people around me look so happy but I feel sad and hurt. I feel like my insides are about to explode, and I feel like my cries for help are so loud but yet no one could hear me. And that hurts me, and cuts me open even more. I feel like I’m slowing tearing into pieces…
1 comment
I’m sorry you are hurting so much, and that you don’t seem to have a support network of people who truly care and understand your thoughts and feelings. What you say makes perfect sense to me. I don’t think it really helps to know other people are suffering… not when you are struggling every day just to breathe in, breathe out and try to hold yourself together into something functional.
You DO deserve happiness, and love, and peace, and joy, and contentment, and security, and stability. Many of those who seem to have it all together on the outside are just good at putting up a false front & are just as miserable as people in acute care on a mental health ward. Personally I appreciate those who are brave enough to be honest and admit they hurt, they struggle, they fall down and get up over and over again. THOSE, like you, are such a help to others who need to know they’re not alone… that there is an ebb and flow to the worst (and the best) of things. Thank you so much for sharing! And may the strength and comfort you need be yours.