Me

Where to start. I have had depression and Anxiety now for three years. It got worse when i found out that i have anger problems and OCD. It was really hard to accept that fact that i was depressed and that’s when i started cutting. i stopped for awhile in 2011 but ever since then i have been cutting. It all started in 2010 when my grandma passed away and i got made fun of for it and said that i should have died instead of her. Having everyone against me and no one there for me hurt so much. I started to have panic attacks at least once a day. At the end of 2010 something happened with my mum and it wasn’t so good. i felt like everyone was leaving me and i didn’t like it and all i could do was wear long sleeves making it so no one knew what i was hiding. it wasn’t easy . In 2011 i started to think about suicide and Ive tried twice since then. And waking up from wanting to die is the worst feelng because i wanted to die so badly but i woke up crying, thinking why didn’t i just die. so instead i started to cut everyday but i didn’t do it on my arms i had to hide it not show it. so i did it on my legs and hips. i still have a couple scars that wont go away. having to see the cuts and scars and being reminded each and everyday is horrible but then i love to see them. I don’t know why but  i just like the feeling of blood dripping from my arm and the feeling of cutting my wrist. I never told anyone. In 2010 my dad shut me out. i didn’t talk to him in a year and 6 months. causing me to shut everyone out. in 2013 my mum left in September. it broke everything in me. i couldn’t believe she left.that’s when everything got worse again and i stated cutting more than once a day. i had panic attack after panic attack. i couldn’t take it with her not being her. she hurt me. they hurt me. i wanted to die so badly. i had planned out my suicide but i didn’t succeed. i cried for so long when i didn’t die. everything was getting ruined. I lost my boyfriend and it killed me. i couldn’t sleep at night or i went to bed sick to my stomach.  i stopped eating after my brother called me porky. i couldn’t tell my dad. all my friends knew. i lost everyone. no one wanted to be near the depressed girl or the cutter.  i was physically and mentally broken.