I’m 19 and I’ve had mental health issues all my life. I’m dumb and lazy, I’m not very good in school. Well I used to be, I was home schooled, but it sucked because my mom is kind of a shitty parent and an especially shittier teacher, but I’d teach myself things and read all day never going anywhere. I didn’t really have any friends and the one’s I did got ripped away from me or beat me up or spread lies about me. I only really knew christian people in the hack job of a church we went to. I convinced my mom to let me go to high school to actually be with the “normal” kids and I quickly found out even more what a freak I was (am). Found myself a boyfriend four years older than me because I was stupid and young and wanted someone to be there for me. Obviously he broke up with me since he was going off to college and I got caught with a handful of pills and a glass of water crying in my bed. I never actually did it, but got dragged to to the hospital anyway and got diagnosed with anxiety on top of my “depression”. Speed up to a few years where I’m sort of comfortable, realizing I kind of missed out on things as a kid not really being able to see other kids on a regular basis except the asshole across the street who went to my church and repeatedly gave me black eyes and broke my teeth as his mom laughed about it. God I wish I was confident enough to have fought back. So anyway, I got a new boyfriend after figuring out I’m pansexual and he helped me out of an abusive relationship with a girl. He turned out to be a bigger asshole than her. Really awful relationship, I’m uncomfortable in my sexuality now and gender I’m a fucking mess and I hate myself because of him and I have horrible memories that I’m trying to downplay in my head but I can’t help but stop whatever I’m doing whenever I think of them. So I got fucked from that. Basically I’m just a little cry baby and can’t handle anything thrown at me, I’m just making a bunch of excuses. I tried a few other times to off myself with no success. Ended up either throwing up any pills I swallowed or just plain woke up sick and hallucinating still having to go to school. My grades were ass and I got high all the time senior year but I somehow got a full ride scholarship to the local uni thanks to my pressured-to-get-good-grades freshman self that made my gpa still very good. It seems that I just can’t get over being an oddball social outcast though. I tried to get a job or two and basically got fired from both because I’m too slow and incompetent to be able to do things really fast and keep a happy face all day. I think everything is pointless, why do I have to look happy being there when I want to stab myself in front of every person that bitches at me for not having the right mug in stock as if I control it. And no Karen, there aren’t any in the back or they would be on the shelf. So I’m in school still heavily relying on my parents who I don’t really get along with but enough that I still go to the house and spend time with them, I wasn’t treated badly by them I just don’t like the way they chose to raise me and their religion and won’t accept me, but we just never bring it up so, water I suppose. I don’t have a job, I’m too panicky to get a driver’s license and I’m already on a fine black-box concoction of pills for my new diagnosis of bipolar II and ADD so I don’t want any anxiety meds. Nobody will really talk to be except a few people and even they think I’m kinda weird which is understandable. I’m ugly as fuck and short and I used to be fat but depression took care of that thank god. Right now I’m not really trying in school at all because I’m fucking tired, I’m tired of all this stress and having to come here is expected of me because I got that dumb scholarship. I’m failing classes and my gpa is too low to keep my scholarship. If I fail school that’s it, my parents and family will be furious. I am not going to live with them again. I just don’t think I can even face the disappointment I’ve brought upon myself either. I did want to become an animator after all, or illustrator or whatever. Seems easy to get an art degree but I’m so awful at math. So fucking stupid. It’s lights out pretty soon I’m done. I didn’t even fucking plan to get past 18 I’m not ready for this shit. Everyone treats me like an adult when I feel like I barely got a childhood because the only social skills I got was in high school and I had to socialization of 6 year old. I’m a kid right now. I’m like 17 at most I don’t feel 19 I’m not supposed to be an adult yet. I’m just bitching about this shit man like fuck some people had it way worse than me It’s really funny actually. God, I really need to get myself out of here for other people’s sake, fuckin stupid *****. It’s literally over once I lose that scholarship fuck it maybe it’s over sooner than that. I wanna go for real, I know the next time I try I ain’t messing with pills n shit I’m gonna hang myself. I have one chance because I’m not gonna ever go back to a normal life if I don’t get it right. I hope that I’ll at least be reincarnated into someone who everyone loves, and someone who loves themselves, who’s pretty and hot and tall and skinny and has amazing hair and good teeth and health and talents. Or maybe I’ll go to one of those places I’ve dreamed of. I’ll be a hero to the whole world and everyone will love me. I’ll have a friend and we’ll go adventuring in the mountains together and beat giant creatures that are controlled by evil like in an rpg and save the world. or face off against aliens. or even just live in little cottage by myself eating off my vegetable garden and having a pet cat that will always love me. I don’t know, but I know I can’t stay here.
Recently, I got called into the psychologist’s office at my high school for a consultation. One of my teachers told me that she’d been watching over me for two and a half years (I’m halfway through my third year of high school, seventeen and a half years old) and directed me to the office.
I initially had trouble opening up; mostly because of the shock I experienced when I got asked whether there was something wrong. It felt like lightning struck me on a clear sunny day. I was silent and awkward and smiley the first few times. In the past three years, I’ve never shown any signs of depression or suicidal behavior, mostly due to fear of getting the same reactions I got a couple of years ago when I attempted to open up to people (particularly family members).
Now I’ve decided to tell my story here, on this website, for some odd reason.
When I was in sixth grade, I started getting feelings of alienation from other classmates. I felt different in an indescribable way – it wasn’t particularly intense or anything, but it was still there, and it was a drag.
That was when the bullying slowly began and gradually escalated as time passed by.
I was about 12 years old, I think. Students pushed me around and I had no friends, nor support from my family members. During that time, I went to private English lessons in a private school and also took tennis classes. The bullying got worse bit by bit. It wasn’t very physical, to be honest, but the words they said broke me. At about that time, I started to cut. Not very deep, mostly just scratches. I would usually wrap my wrist with gauze so that it wouldn’t be directly visible (frankly, I wasn’t too good at that).
Then seventh grade came.
And things got worse.
At one point during this period, things did get slightly physical. One of my classmates from school transferred to my English group, and managed to turn the other students against me. They said the same things to me like in school: “You should just kill yourself”, “You’re ugly/stupid/worthless” etc. They also tugged my hair or pulled at my sleeve or gave me a kick or two from the back of my stool.
Up until that point, I remember having one friend. Her name doesn’t matter, she will remain anonymous, but I will tell you that she was very dear to me.
But like all things in life that also had to end, at some point.
My father decided I needed to take better and more efficient tennis classes, so he made me transfer to another tennis club, in an all boys group. I, as a 13-year-old girl, could not easily just adapt to the new setting. Besides, because of my worsening situation, I began to change in the aspect of personality. I began having more outbursts and irrational anger emissions (for example, I would get mad at her if she didn’t reply to my messages within a short period of time). So with time, I lost her, and at that point I truly felt – and was – alone, in this mess.
At more than just a few points in my life, I tried to tell my parents, but all I got was dismissal. The idea of telling my parents, especially my dad, scares me to this day. I start to shake and whenever I try thinking about it in-depth, I reflexively start weeping.
It felt like you’re under some murky waters, looking around, completely conscious but unable to do anything. Unable to wave your hands and push yourself to the surface. I couldn’t go to my parents, I had no friends to turn to, so I headed to the thing that was easily accessible to me – self harm.
Flash forward to a year or a year and a half later. The day before me and my family were supposed to go on a vacation, I confessed. To tell you the truth, their first reaction was horrible. My mother was in shock, didn’t react in any way, just started to rub her face in order to remain calm, and at some point started to cry. My father said “Really? Why didn’t you cut deeper? If you’re already getting into that, why not just kill yourself and end it all?”
Now, while this may seem a bit drastic (to say the least), specifically coming out of a parent’s mouth, it was not completely inappropriate. Although I do wish he would have phrased it differently, honestly, because at that time it destroyed a little part of me that to this day I cannot piece back together.
Anyways, although it did not begin so, the end to me and my parents’ conversation ended not very unpleasantly. Truthfully it felt like the weight on my shoulders had been lifted – at least temporarily.
So then.. When did it return?
I’ll jump to the last year of primary school (14 years old). There was a scandal at school in which I was directly involved. There were rumors circulating; people talking about me having sex in the school’s toilets with a boy from my class. My classmates started talking, the teachers started questioning and sending me to the principal’s office, the boy started to pressure me and actually say things like “If you don’t tell everyone that nothing ever happened, I’ll fuck your life up.” or some other bullshit like that. However, instead of returning these comments with emotional behaviors like cutting or other forms of self harm, I did quite the opposite: I resorted to dismissing my own emotions and made myself distanced and unemotional. To this day, because of that particular moment, things that seem normal and completely doable to other people sometimes seem confusing or, in extreme cases, impossible for me.
During that period, I started getting “closer” with one (at that time problematic) girl in my class. We were on and off all the time, she was the type of person with a very explosive personality while I was quite the opposite. She caused fights while I was ruining away from them. And the boy decided to brainwash her, and make her doubt everything I ever said up until I managed to explain what actually happened and that she was being lied to (the lie doesn’t matter too much, it’ll take an extra paragraph to explain anyways).
To sum up, I spent that period running around offices and running away from myself. I do remember that some teachers did attempt to reach out (and I am extremely thankful), but I couldn’t accept it. During that time, I’d cut my long hair very boyishly short – I felt ugly so therefore I wanted to look ugly.
After primary school comes high school (it’s how it works here). I applied for one of the best high schools in my city, for the English bilingual class and I passed the test.
My high school life had begun and almost everything was left behind me. I did feel free for a short while, but the feelings and experiences I had have left a big dent in my personality and probably to some extent even in my psychological development. Not that I was mentally ill or something drastic like that, but I never really mastered basic things that, as it seemed to me, others already had and didn’t think too much of.
The first half of my freshman year started off a bit wobbly. I had made a promise to myself to be extremely careful, and therefore I did not speak a lot, unless I really needed to. One of my classmates from primary school was in my class, and if that were not the case, I’d be living a completely different life. She was with me almost always, she was really trying to make me open up (at least that’s the impression I got, I think) and make me communicate a bit more.
The second half of freshman year began and I started smoking. I remember the date – February 4th, year 2016. Finally, I’d found something that calms me down and, in a way, lets me self harm in a completely subtle way to other people. I was an addict even before I’d lit my first cigarette.
My first real friendships blossomed with the first box of cigarettes. I traded my lungs for the one thing that I’d always prayed for – true, heartfelt friendship. Someone to like me, to greet me, to want to be with me. To walk by and turn their head toward me with a soft smile, not a cynical smirk.
The three girls were in my class, but the first time I spoke to them was completely by accident. I saw them frequently outside during the breaks between classes and thought that they went out to smoke, so I asked them for a lighter. They got excited that I decided to start, and to keep it short – our friendship began.
My life has improved very much; I have great friends, my parents are slowly adapting to me, my school life is overall satisfying, the bullying is in the past.
But… I feel empty, without a sense of direction in life. Social life is hard and lately it’s taken a toll on me, psychologically in particular. I began cutting again recently, the number of cigarettes I smoke a day has doubled over time and I’ve been feeling sick physically and having trouble doing some simple things, like getting up in the morning or dressing or taking baths. Not many things are even a bit fulfilling, and every fulfillment that does happen lasts a relatively short time. There are dents and holes and scratches in me. I’m forgetful, at times irrationally reckless. Certain smells, sounds, voices, nuances – literally almost anything, can remind me of something traumatic and I’ll start getting anxious or sad or faint.
Often, a sentence pops up in my mind. “I really wish I would’ve died back then and there”.
But I didn’t. There was probably some voice whispering to me not to go and to try staying here. Perhaps some subconscious curiosity, who knows.
Now I can hear the same voice saying, clearer than before “It might be better not to wish for such a thing“.
When that happens, I close my eyes, wipe my tears and draw a breath, feeling the sadness go away into hiding, getting replaced with some peculiar but fulfilling numbness.
In those moments I realize that maybe there is something somewhere that’s keeping me together. The bonds are very labile, but they’re still holding.
Maybe there is some reason.
Just maybe. ?
I’ve heard so many life stories… Some sad, some happy, and some all of the above, but now I want to share mine… So here we go… Hey, my name is Arianna… I’m a 13 year old girl. I guess you could say I’ve been through a lot in life, but not as much as others… Currently I’m in a depression.. I lose and gain my appetite all the time, for no reason at all, I’ll get sad and or angry at myself, and lastly….. I self-harm… It all started 2-3 years ago. I was being bullied by two boys, that I will not name. These boys would remind me that I was fat… I’d usually just ignore it, I would pretend it didn’t faze me.. But that just made them try harder. One day they called me all of these names, that I rather not repeat. I couldn’t take it anymore. These boys lived in my neighborhood so I could easily walk home, so that’s what I did. I stormed inside crying and yelling for my mom, but she was with her friend, five or so houses down the street. My eyes instantly fell on a drawer filled with utensils like wooden spoons, spatulas, and knives. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, telling myself I wouldn’t do it. I would not turn to knives and sharp objects to cope with my feelings and emotions… But that’s exactly what I did; I grabbed the sharpest knife from that drawer and ran to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet lid, debating on whether I should permanently scar my body. That’s when all of the thoughts and memories flooded my brain.. All the times I was called names, all the times I felt worthless and all the times I thought the world would be better off without me… I took that knife I slid it against my wrist 4-5 times and countless times on my ankle… Something triggered in me that day, something that I would regret forever.. Skip a few months. I didn’t harm myself at all over those few months. Yes, I was still being called names by the two boys that had started the bullying from the beginning. The eldest one somewhat died down on the whole bullying thing, but the youngest kept on trying harder and harder. My mom soon found out, she checked my wrists, nothing. Skip about a year later. I didn’t self-harm at all. One of them moved and the other stopped bullying me. I thought the self-harm thing was just faze, but I was wrong… I started hating my body and was just always depressed.. I began cutting again more and more, but only my legs and or my stomach… I’m not proud of what I’ve been doing for several years now; I don’t just go around telling people either. I know I need help, but I just don’t simply want it. I know I should stop, but I cant.. It’s harder to stop then to begin. Everyone copes with their feelings differently… The way I cope with mine just happens to be one of the ways how many, many others cope with theirs… And I also do think about suicide all the time.
Hi guys, I am new to this site, came across it while looking for an outlet for my negative thoughts. I struggle to talk to people about how I feel, and I am finding it increasingly difficult to live with the loneliness of not being able to express myself. My friends are kind. I don’t have many, but the ones I do have I appreciate and are there for me often, but more in terms of meeting up and having fun, rather than being able to specifically talk to them. That’s why I am here.
For many years, I have felt insecure. I was severely bullied for years, from being called names to being hit and followed home from school. This caused me to move schools. Now I am in university, failing my second year, and in need of motivation to do the simplest of tasks like getting dressed and washing myself. Some days I can force myself to move, go to the gym, go into town with a friend. Other days I can’t move from my bed, my hair will become increasingly greasy and my clothes will need washing, but I remain in bed, either not eating, or eating nothing but junk food. I know that’s common with people, and I want to share my story and find some like-minded people.
My biggest problem is my constant anxiety. I have not told my parents how bad it is, and I try so hard to fit in with the fast paced-ness of my university course, and the type of people who are there, but it’s so difficult, as they are very different to me. We do fashion and textiles. Being unable to retain friendships is a big problem, because I find myself scrambling for words to say, and trying to keep a conversation going is virtually impossible. When I started University, I was very excited. I could finally move on from the oppression of school, and be my own person. What I became, however, is the same as everybody else. Well, at least that’s what I attempted. I found friends via the internet, fresher pages etc, and made friends very easily (online, I can be outgoing, almost like a complete new person), but meeting them was a different matter. At first, conversation was easy “So, what did you do at school” “what A-levels did you take?” “How is where you live?” The conversations come easily, because there is so much to learn. Me, I asked the questions, rarely answering them, because I find myself very boring and uninteresting.
A few weeks go by, and I am feeling lonely, distant. I knew a girl from school, the pretty and popular type, but we took the same classes and got along well, and ended up at the same uni, doing the same course. This was great, knowing her made me more confident, because nobody else knew eachother, but we did. I’d like to think that I created that group. All the people, I made friends with, me. I introduced everybody to eachother. However, as the months went by, I was pushed out. Conversations would be dry, with me barely being able to get a word in. They would all go out and I wouldn’t be invited, which hurt like hell when they discussed their fun days in front of me. The collective Birthday presents we decided to buy eachother apparently didn’t include me, and I wasn’t asked to sign the card. Those little things made me feel more alone than the days when I was physically hit and spat upon, because at least then I would know they disliked me, instead of being two-faced. I’m sure it’s pretty relatable, we all have those friends I guess!
I’m rambling now, my point is, I am stuck. My parents, friends.. nobody has a clue. I get emails from my lecturers and even higher up people in the university wondering why I virtually never attend, and I never have a good enough reason. What am I supposed to say, “today I was so down I couldn’t get out of bed, I’m sorry” or “It took most of my strength just to keep myself alive today”? Nope, bad idea, so instead I have to make excuses that are obviously lies and just make me look like a loser.
Anybody else feel this way? I’m struggling with seeing a future for myself. Most people by now have a direction in life, who they want to be in 5-10 years time.. me? I just want to be here. I do. As much as my negative thoughts tell me I am better off not being here, I want to stay, and prove to myself, my school bullies, and the friends who pushed me out for not being like them, that I can be somebody. Hopefully I have found somewhere I can channel my pain and stop bottling everything up.
….Hey all….This is my first time posting here, and in all honesty, I never thought I’d see myself posting on a site like this.
I’m not looking for pity, simply a place for me to talk about my problems, where no one will judge me, or tell me that I need to believe in God.
I apologize in advance if this seems like pointless rambling, as I’m just trying to get it all out.
I’m 14 years old, and honestly, I wanna die. My biological father left when I was two, and I have no memories of him, and I only found out about him a year and a half ago. I had never really seen my stepfather (the man who I thought was my real father for most of my life) as my father, before I found out, so it wasn’t that hard for me to accept. The hard part was to find out that I’d been lied to for nearly 12 1/2 years.
My stepfather calls me a fat fuck, and a freak on a daily basis, and has no consideration for others. He takes advantage of my mother, and steals her money. My stepfather is physically and verbally abusive, but mostly verbal. He yells at me every chance he gets, and it makes me feel like absolute shit. He doesn’t like how I like bands (like honestly I’m band trash but oh well) and music, and how I find comfort in the music I like. He hates that I like art and drawing, and that I don’t want to go to college because I want to pursue a career in music. He doesn’t know that I’m not straight, and I don’t believe in God.
Because of him (mostly) I became anorexic at age 8 and I’ve struggled with it ever since.
My stepfather favors his son (my half brother) that he had with my mother. He is 6 years old, and my stepfather puts my half brother on a motherfucking pedestal, and treats him like he’s the king of the fucking world. Sometimes I’m okay with just being ignored, so that I can go off on my own, and relax, but still, I rarely get to do that.
I’m not comfortable in my own home. I see it as the house that I live in until the day that I turn 18 and I can get the fuck out of that shit hole. My only real safe place is my head….because there, only I can judge me.
My mother is in my life, but she is oblivious to what my stepfather does, even though it happens right in front of her. She doesn’t pay much attention to me, and lets me be myself. She has admitted to me that she has failed as a mother, by letting him into my life. But now she acts as if she never said that.
I’m also bullied at school because I don’t believe in God, I’m not straight, I’m goth(?….or emo or whatever they call it…), I like different music than them, I’m anorexic and many other things. Recently a good friend of mine asked me to meet him in the bathroom, and I did because I trusted him, and didn’t expect him to do anything. But that’s where I was wrong. He told me that he liked me (which honestly came as a surprise to me because I have 3 friends, and no one likes me). I gave him my honest answer, that I didn’t like him in that way, and then he forced himself on me in a school bathroom. I tried to get him to stop, and I tried my hardest to fight him, but he wrestles so he’s a lot stronger than me.
Two months ago, I ran away, because I couldn’t take my stepfather’s bullshit anymore, I had made it out of state, but had been found two days later. When I was brought home, my mother was outside, crying and waiting for them to bring me home, and my stepfather was asleep on the couch. When my mother came inside with me, and told him that they found me, his reply was, “Remind me why you called the cops. This family would have been better off without her stupid, fat ass. She could have been raped and killed for all I care.” Then he went back to sleep.
I have depression, I’m suicidal, I self harm, I don’t want lectures on how I need change for my stepfather (because I’ve gotten those before….why?…I have no clue…) or how he’s doing this because he loves me. I don’t need bullshit about how I caused all of this. I don’t need to be judged, or ridiculed because of how I am. I know that I’m a violent person. I lost count of how many times I’ve been sent to the office or had the cops called on me for attacking someone who said something to me. I don’t need God.
I just want to know that someone out there cares……
Though I know that in this world, that’s a hard thing to find…
And at times I just want to go to sleep and never wake up…..
This month, I was a victim of abuse. Twice. No, not “use (something) to bad effect or for a bad purpose; misuse”, it’s “treat with cruelty or violence, especially regularly or repeatedly”. I’ve been abused many times now, but I think this month is the worst.
Abuse story 1:
So, one day I was in class, didn’t finish my work, so I was supposed to stay back for recess, but I didn’t want to. The teacher dragged my collar (I was about 3-5 meters away from the class when this happened) all the way to the classroom door, and threw me. I hit something, so I got a small cut on my wrist (on the vein, so if anything touches it it’s pain, even water), tried to hit the teacher with a table, waited a few seconds, then ran away and cried.
Aftermath of #1:
I told as much people as possible, even my form teacher. Even the form teacher said it’s my fault. It’s nuts. So, I actually thought that the teachers are against me.
Abuse story 2:
You won’t believe this, one day I went out with my father. He then asked me to cut my hair, but I thought “Oh, he’s s****d, my hair is not even long.” so I said “No.” but he said “You must!” He started to get angry. He then said “You better go when I’m telling you nicely” I kept on saying “No”. So he took out my slipper, hit my leg very hard with it 3 times. (Lucky it didn’t bleed) He also pulled my hair 5 times!
Aftermath of #2:
He simply said “I will leave, make us happy OK?” then packed bag and left.
I have many abuse stories.
I don’t have time to fit all of the things in this story.
Just know: Life is not important. Even if you are talented. (Like me, I am 8 and know how to write all of this things. I know the word “supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” too. Trust me, I didn’t googol the spelling. I memorized it. I know a lot of things. I even used Facebook from 3 years old!)
I wish I was in 2008/2009 forever.
I feel like suiciding.
I have no friends.
Everyone lies to get me in trouble.
Everyone around me is evil.
People might say: Aren’t you embarrassed to share this? Well, all the embarassment is converted into sadness.
Things I hate: People, Life, School, Non-English languages, Bullying, Bored (me 24/7), etc, etc, Almost everything.
Things I love: Games (especially video games) and Videos ONLY.
We can survive pain and lost, but how to survive injustice? What to do when all what you one day believed is pulverized in front of your eyes? What to do when you are being punish without a reason and you feel lost? Where to find that little thing, that miraculous thing that will make you wake up and try again?
One day after many years of fail intends and hardship you arrive to the place you want to live, then you are happy as you was not before in your whole life. You have a life, is not a perfect life, you have problems with your partner, but still, you keep fighting, you are still in love, you have a family, you have friends, you have a goal and a plan, you irradiate happiness, you are a good mom, a worker, an student.
Then, suddenly, all turn grey, your partner betray you, he humiliate you, he makes your life miserable, even more than before, he believe more in an stranger than in you, but he does not want to give you the divorce. Then you get sick, there are people hurting you in everyplace you go, they are ending their plan, broken your dreams, stealing your smile, your children are losing her mom, they stop doing what they have to do and you stop doing all the great things you were doing, you are sick now. You cry, you yell, you misbehave, and then he is there, your salvation is there, giving you a false love.
The storm has passed, then you have lost your marry, your moral, your believe in true love, in friends, family, in the place you chose to life, you feel alone. Then you start blaming, laughing, you start saying stupidities, you want them to know how you feel. But they are more powerful than that, they go against all the anti bully campaigns, against rationality and common sense, again the law and all the logic things, they make you feel even more miserable. All your pain was not enough, now they embrace the criminal than condemned you to that life, they give more value to criminals than you, they make you feel unworthy and like nothing, it was not enough, they want you death, but they do not kill you.
What sense could have to life a live that you do not want to life, empty of friends, family, future, dreams, goals and love?
My friend, lets call her Bells, was under a lot of stress at the time, emotional and physical stress, not having to do with school but with how she felt. I didn’t really know why, she never told me much less anyone, but she said she was abused and she was bullied most of the time, people called her “fat” and “ugly” etc. but she wasn’t either of those, but there was so much hate, that in blinded her. One afternoon, in Spanish, the rain was heavy on the window pane, and our teacher had us jot down ideas, and Bells started to write things on her paper, her sleeves rising up, revealing her arm. My eyes seemed like they were bulging and it felt like I was on LSD. All these red cuts, were worming around her arms, some in straight lines and others crooked. I didn’t understand why she did it at the time. So when our teacher told us we were going out in the hall for a brain break, I grabbed her hand and held her back with me and I asked, “Why are you hurting yourself?” And she smiled, fake of course and she said that it was the only way she could relieve the pain in her heart. As the day’s passed, it seemed like she became more depressed, this sad weight starting to crush her. She never smiled, didn’t even try and she always wore double long sleeves, afraid that someone would see. Boots up to her knees and tight jeans on her legs. Hair was always down, eyes always glazed over. She told me that last day, that she couldn’t take it anymore, that it heart too much and even though she visited the school counselors, she believed she was a lost cause and that she would be destroyed by the abuse, if she didn’t destroy herself. I didn’t fully understand what she meant, I just interpreted it like she was going on a trip to relax or something, but I was wrong. So that second day, when she didn’t show up in Spanish, and when the announcement came on, “With great sorrow we are sad to inform you that a student, Bells, made the brave decision to commit suicide last night.” And my mind went blank. All of Bells very close friends in that class, yelling and crying, but I couldn’t hear them, it went silent in my mind. I should’ve been crying, but I guess I was too shocked to. I sat there in the chair, leaning back mournfully, a blank stare on my face. The night we went home, I locked myself in my room, and sat on my bed, sorrow. I screamed loudly at the ceiling and threw books at my wall, pillows and fists. My cheeks stained with tears. I looked over through the window, spotting my ex-friend, lets call him Dallas, catching football with his friend. We used to be the best of friends and now we don’t talk to each other, and it hurts. I needed him that day, I needed him to calm me down, and when I realized I didn’t have him to comfort me, the pain only grew stronger. Days later when I was showering, I kept replaying the moments of horror and sadness in my mind, and my hands started to shake, the loud cries escaping my mouth. I hurled myself out of the shower and grabbed the razor in the closet, and drew it across my skin. Then realizing I had cut for the first time, I yelled for my mom who came to my aid, she patched me up and held me on the couch. Until I fell asleep again and she carried me to my bed.
A week later, I only got more depressed, missed her funeral on purpose. Every night I tried to fall asleep, I screamed her name at the ceiling, trying hard to claw my heart out of my skin, because it hurt too much. Crying so hard that I started to bleed because I was all dried up. I miss her. I still think about her.
I understand how she felt now.
My story starts in 2010. After a picture of me in underwear ends on internet and all my small city call me a whore all my “friends” started to stay away from me, because “no one wants do be friends with such a slut”, they said. The people I know started to ignore everything I was, all my qualities, and started to judge me just because that stupid pic. I was only 14. I suffered bullying, I had no friend. I couldn’t talk about this with my parents because I was afraid to let them down and ashamed for what I’ve done. So, I don’t know how, I started cutting myself in my wrists.
One day my mother discovered my scars (because of the blood in my shirts) and fought with me in every way you can imagine. Now I was a “slut” AND “the black ship of de family”. My only moment of peace were when I was alone in my bedroom cutting myself with the blades I hid under my bed. I changed my school. There I met WONDERFUL people that helped me get over this, that made me see the world in a new way and grown up. One girl -who became my BFF and still is- noticed what was going on with me and showed me The Butterfly Project. Everyday I wrote butterflies in my wrists with her name on it.
When my father discovered what was going on (when he listened me and my mother arguing), he was so disappointed. The only thing he said to me was “if you wanna kill yourself, do it right and hang yourself”. So I tried suicide. I ate all the pills I found, and a bottle of whisky. I ended up in the hospital, but fine. After this day, I decided that I should see a doctor.
In the begging of 2012 I stopped with my meds. I was finally “cured”. After losing one of my best friends, I was cutting myself again. I needed to hide it well, because I did not want to be reason for tears again. In the end of the year I was doing better. My friends helped me to stay well. January 2013, my senior year, dreaming about became an engineer… My father dies. I couldn’t say good bye or how much I loved him. With all the pressure about getting into college and this, I couldn’t resist. I started cutting again.
So, one day, I dreamt about my dad saying me to stop, that I was making him sad, that he just wanted me to be happy, that I should focus on school and get into a fucking food university. The dream was so real that I did exactly what he said.
In 2013 I had a though year. I felt down, I missed my dad. Things changed radically in my life. But I was strong. At the end of the year I was better than ever, even with all the bad thing that I had been, and you know why? Because I understood that life is a gift, and even when you think things will not get better, they will someday somehow. I finally grew up. I learned to handle my problems in a healthy way.
So in 2014 I was accepted in the best Mechanical Engineer college from Latin America, I moved out. My mother got better about my father’s death and now sees me as a example of strength.
Now, in 2015, I can say that I am fine. I love my life, I woke up everyday happy because of the responsabilities I have. I have a boyfriend who loves me, supports me and don’t think I’m crazy because all this shit I’ve been through and a tons of friends that care about me. I am not ashamed of my scars. I am really happy. Even when I’m sad I’m happy. Happy because I know that I will never cut myself again or try suicide.
If I did it, you can do it too. It’s just a matter of time and support. And you can talk about it with me.
I guess I was never meant to be born and live. My mom was an addict and she had this brief fling with my dad, they weren’t in love, she didn’t have a job and she was an addict. I wish she would have aborted me. But she didn’t. I was born at 7 months, probably due to her injecting God only knows what.
ALL my life I was MISERABLE, my childhood wasn’t that bad but as soon as I went to middle school people started bullying me, telling me I was ugly, that I looked like an ape, that I was hideous. And I was all alone, no friends because people pushed me away because of my appearence. All I did was crying and getting back home being by myself. I was pretty good in school and that was my only satisfaction. My mom died when I was 12 and she left me with an aunt who is extremely narrow minded and ignorant, who made my life so miserable, who never supported me and always said I was ugly as other people said. I once got told that I should surgically redo all myself, then he added “No, I am joking, you have a nice figure” implying my face is hideous
High school came and things started improving because kids didn’t make fun of me anymore, and I had the illusion I was okay again, that things CHANGED. I had self esteem again and people looked up to me because I was very good in school. I wasn’t happy, things were still not that , but they weren’t that bad either. My self esteem kept being crushed and I got the attention of men in the worst possible way, and you all know what I am hinting at. I am so disgusted by my behaviour, but more than that I am disgusted by my life, from the start. But then, let’s continue: I got accepted in one of the best colleges of the country and I was over the moon, I thought my life was finally on track. But had to drop out due to my fmaily not sending me enough money to survive. I remeber I was very suicidal back then as I felt empty, had panic attacks, I postponed my suicide so many times, I remember wating for my favourite show to be over, an English show dealing with mental illnesses and body images issues, just as the ones I have. I reflected myself so much in the character and I cried so much over it. EVERY TIME(I plan on doing a rewatch before killing myself).I went abroad and tried to work, a family member accomodated me, but as I couldn’t find a job in less than a month she basically told me I had to leave and humiliated me for seeking the attention of men online. I was again crushed, and I ran away hoping I could just starve in the streets and be forgotten. They found me and I went back home, my family pressured me to enrol again after I dropped out in another(less prestigious University) so I did. BAD MISTAKE. At the age of 20, me, UNLUCKY AS I AM, got bullied. Seriously, who gets bullied at 20? It was so humiliating, I was so depressed I just wanted to start over and find new friends, I never had friends, I wanted a full life, I wanted to feel loved and do good but it ruined it for me .The self esteem issues started again and I started having panic attacks, I didn’t go to lectures anymore and wasted another year of my life. But that’s not even all of it I have an autoimmune disease and I suspect it’s draining all my energy but I can’t get any treatment for it yet(I have to wait it causes damage to the organ it affects). Not to mention I got told I look way older than my actual age, my skin is thinning and is very dry. I also have atopic dhermatitis. I mean CAN IT GET ANY WORSE? It seems that when I say that sentence I challenge the Universe to do worse. I really wanted to move to a specific place to find a job(high unemployment rate where I am from) but unfortunately I now have social anxiety and after this horrific year that reminded me of how hideous I am, I would rather kill myself than have the self esteem to move to another place and start a new life there. Seeing the pattern of my life, I am pretty sure something bad will happen even in that place. I am proactive, I want to pull myself together but so much crap comes my way that I don’t even know where to start.
life FAILED me, I know I can’t have it all good, but I didn’t expect to have it all bad either. Can one single thing go well? Could have I had at least one thing that I like and, morelike, OTHER PEOPLE like about myself? There seems to be none, my life is unraveling and I hate it so much, all the problems, all the jinx, all the shit that I’d rather kill myself than live the 3rd worst year of my life. I started glorifying death, I see it as the light at the end of the tunnel. what will make it okay, the thing that will save me from all this pain I am living. I know things will worsen, they will because I don’t even have the confidence to go out anymore. And I will never be able to pull myself together.
Life is always being unfair with me, and death, even if bad, at least is fair. What’s the point anyway? Aren’t I gonna die in a few decades anyway? Why should I stick around? So people can use me as their personal relief for their frustration? I was unlucky from the beginning, let’s face it. I was born to a couple who did not want me(my dad abandoned me), in the worst fucking time(crisis, lack of jobs) and in the worst place(country deeply affected from it). Maybe a job would have helped me, but why do I bother? I don’t even have the strength to wake up in the morning
I can already see my future, my life will keep taking the course it’s already taken: I will age very fast and people, as they always did, will use my appearence to bring me down. I won’t be able to finish any University course and I’ll probably add even more pain on top of the amazing 20 years I lived.
I am ready to die and finally be well, in nothingness, as I was meant to be in the first place. That’s what I long for and luckily enough I came up with a fairly good plan. I can’t wait to die and finally be free. I don’t want to change my mind, because every time I do I end up regretting it.
I’m here because I don’t want to die. I want to believe that I have something to offer this world, and that my current suffering will lead to a day where I can turn it around and use it to help others. Thing is, I’ve been depressed my whole life. I feel like from the moment I was born, I was given a cluster of psychiatric diagnoses instead of a personality. I was a problem to be solved, not a person to be loved. I was not human; I was merely human labels. Autism at first, because I’d rock endlessly in place. Then bipolar, because I’d self-harm as early as two if I didn’t get my way, then two minutes later be sunshine and smiles. Then I was ADHD because I was restless and energetic as I grew a bit older. Then Autistic turned to Asperger’s when it showed that I had poor social skills, low emotional intelligence, yet an apparently advanced intellect.
Now I’m just simply here. I just turned 30 back in May and I still don’t really know who I am. I’ve rejected almost all of these labels to try and find myself without them, but now I’m not sure what for. Two years ago, I quit therapy, weaned myself off of my meds, and I grew substantially. I actually found and kept work. I learned how to cook and how to eat well for my mood management. I began considering a potential career in nursing that would focus on nutrition for mental health.
Now it’s circling around. I’m having a hard time letting go of the past. I finally learned how to forgive my mom and truly stop being angry with her, which is good. We’ve become friends. I’ve recognized that she only ever meant to help me and that she’s loved me deeply and has worked hard for me to get where I am at all. This woman used to fight with my high school nearly every day for each year I was there. Just so that I could graduate by the skin of my teeth. At that time, I could barely leave the house.
But I just can’t let go of the pain of being denied an identity. Not only by the imposition of labels before I had a chance to assert any kind of a personality, but also by bullies, who were constant throughout my entire schooling. I even had a few years of school where the ENTIRE CLASS ganged up on me and teachers did little to nothing. I learned very early on that authority is very often not on your side. It doesn’t care.
I don’t have health insurance or a car. I can barely keep up with my rent and bills. I have a feeling that something is wrong either with my sleep cycle or my thyroid but I don’t know how I can get it checked when I can’t save a dime and Medicaid denied me. I feel exceedingly anxious and hopeless as the days go on. Life should be good now. I have a wonderful boyfriend that I stomp on with my stupid spells of sadness. He should leave me, but he doesn’t, and I’m too scared of being alone to let him go. I feel so selfish, so desperate. He is always holding me, crying for me. Why I don’t know. I wish I had the heart to do what’s right.
I don’t want to die but there was a time when dying was all I desired. All I would think about. It has proven the hardest to curb that broken record thought cycle. It’s eating me up and I don’t know whyat to do. I cry at the drop of a hat. I feel so bad for my boyfriend. I keep trying to hang onto the little things, like my mom’s new kitten or my next cup of green tea as pointless as that sounds. Food feels more like a ball and chain each day though. At first it was miraculous that it could be so healing for me. Now it is frustrating that if I have the most minor of sugar crashes, my mind goes into a tailspin and there I am pacing and agitated and ready to break.
If any of you know who I am, you know that when I was 14, last year, I tried to kill myself by swallowing 60+ pills. I was in the hospital for a week. Besides that, I want to tell you what it was like going back to school, and back to social media.
Being back to school was different. I was different. I was much more different than I give credit for. Either way, people took notice of me. I was the talk of the school for a whole month. People watched me like halks. Sympathetic looks? I’ve seen a million. People could be mean, however they never said it to my face.
I’m sure you all know what ask.fm is, so, I’ll get to the point of this. I was bullied immensely on Ask.fm.
I will tell you some of the things that were sent to me.
Anonymous: if you don’t succeed, try try again.
Anonymous: I hope next time it works.
Anonymous: I wish it worked.
Anonymous: Die *****. Kill yourself. Again lmao
I want to say something. I did try to kill myself yes. But I am just like everyone else. I am normal, I am human. I was a human that couldn’t bear the pain anymore and tried to take it away, so why punish me?
I hate social media. Besides this site, the only social media I use are Twitter,Wattpad and facebook. I wont use anything where people can hate anonymously like cowards that can’t have the courage to say it to my face. I have no respect for people who tell other people to kill themselves online, or in the real world. Its pathetic, its rude and it’s wrong.
Please don’t let yourself be the victim of online bullying, you are better than that.
Hi I’m a 15-year-old girl and was very suicidal nearly the whole last year but I got over it and I want to tell my story to help those people who feel like I did some time ago.
It all started at primary school with some guys in my class bullying me. The bullying went on for almost 10 years in every class and school I went to because some of that bullies always where in the same class. Over that long time I became very insecure and also depressed. Depression really started when I was 12 or 13 and I started cutting and burning myself when I was 14. But suicidal thoughts came earlier than self-harming. They where one of the first things make me notice that I’m really depressed. It was in easter holidays when I first hold a knife in my hand considering to kill myself. This thoughts accompanied me for the next months till I couldn’t cope it anymore and started hurting myself. Acctually it wasn’t really the first time I hurt myself (when I was in primary school I sometimes bit my lip or finger, pulled out my hair or knocked my head against a wall to deal with the mental pain the bullying caused) but it was the first time I saw my own blood when I hurt myself and the first time I did it totally on purpose. In this time I wasn’t able to walk to school (though bullying has stoped 3 or 4 months ago) or meet with the few friends I had without thinking about suicide. I couldn’t look at trains, knifes, scissors, bridges and so on with out wanting to hurt or kill myself. My friends knew about it and once I send a suicide note to them. Well, they wanted to help me and I really am thankful for that but that wasn’t the point that saved me nor the psychotherapist I went to since April 2014.
It was two other points that changed my life completely even though they don’t seems very powerful on first sight:
First thing is not a thing but a person namely my little brother. He’s 11-years-old and I really like him because he’s so similar and close to me, I can talk about everything with him. He’s very sensitive and insecure sometimes and I feared that he would be very depressed about my suicide. He was the only person I really felt close to during my depression, the most other people I liked but not felt close to because I felt so numb.
Second thing was that bullying has stopped months before. Acctually there was no good reason for me to be depressed anymore. Anyway I WAS depressed but some day in December or January I suddenly kind of woke up from the nightmare I was in for years. I realized my live wasn’t as bad as I thought and that both the scars on my skin and the ones one my soul were nearly healed and that I wasn’t that numb anymore. So I decided to help others who suffer the way I did and that gives me the strength to live on.
So now I’m happy even though I did not have a proper childhood which results in me behaving and feeling like a child most of the time. But I overcame my bullying trauma, my depressions and suicidal thoughts and got the chance to start a new life.
Acctually in the vast majority of cases suicide is preventable. If you feel like killing yourself please first stop for a moment. Say yourself you could also wait for three or more days until you are going to commit suicide. Most suicides are commited in impulse. So if you wait some days you may still not feel good but you maybe wouldn’t make the same decision again. Many people who tried to kill thereselves but didn’t succeed regret their suicide attempt.
Now try to think about something good and if that isn’t possible for you in that moment try at least to find some things that aren’t bad. Search for something you would possibly miss when you’re dead or someone who means much to you and you think wouldn’t be able to manage your death. And trust me these things and people exist, for you as well as for me and for every person on this world. Even if you don’t see them NOW, thay ARE there and one day you will be able to see them, one day you’ll be able to smile and be happy again. But if you leave now, you will never be able to experience that WONDERFUL day. Wouldn’t that be very sad? So don’t take away this great chance of a better life by a hasty action. Think well, I’m sure you CAN find something good in life if you search close enough. And let me tell you another thing you should NEVER EVER forget: YOU, yes you, I mean you sitting there with sad eyes on the edge with no hope anymore, YOU, my friend, YOU ARE WORTH LIVING!!! There is always a reason to keep on walking and fighting and searching. And YOU are able to find it and in any case you’re worth it because YOU’RE PRECIOUS AND IRREPLACEABLE, YOU’RE UNIQUE AND WONDERFUL AND IMPORTANT.
And now allow yourself a SMILE and make yourself a nice day. Do something you like and don’t worry. I guarantee EVERYTHING WILL BE OK ONE DAY. 🙂
I am in an emotionally abusive relationship but I’m also in love with the abuser. Im trapped and scared and Ive become depressed as well, Ive been thinking about how death would make it easier because of all the other stress I have and its not like I have a friend who would care because I have 0 friends, but right now Im hanging on for family and Im scared of what my relationship is going to do to me because I love this person so much.
I have been dealing with suicidal depression for over a year now. I’m 18 I no longer live at home due to some family issues and am currently living with my sister who I split rent with. I have a full time job as a cashier, I go to college, and overall am a very busy person. I am actually adopted from a family of drug addicts. My birth dad left my mother when I was born and she did some drugs while pregnant. This caused me to have a form of high functioning Autism called Aspergers (AD) syndrome, ADHD, and OCD. Some of the struggles I have are social situations freak me out, I’ve always been heavily bullied, and for the most part an outcast. My depression strangely enough didn’t start until my senior year of high school even though things had been going downhill for a while. My lack of friends and ability to keep them has been very consistent ever since I was a little kid so I learned to just remain isolated and make books and games my closest friends. My adoptive mom has had some problems with many health issues including injury, illness, and mental which have caused financial stress on the family since she can’t work and her verbal abuse is the reason I no longer live at home. The beginning of my senior year things came to a head when my lack of friends combined with the stress of a hard course schedule full of honors classes combined with abuse at home caused me to break. I suddenly out of no where tried to kill myself by train. I wasn’t able to follow through and then tried reaching out and making friends. Problem was as I made a few friends I became increasingly unhappy over time and eventually reached the point I couldn’t trust people and loathed myself for my problems and just wanted to die to make my family’s life easier. I eventually told 3 of those friends I worked so hard to make about these problems and how I felt and ever since have been building a close relationship to where I actually have a few very close friends. At one point I actually dated one of the 3. She was kind to me, understanding, and tried to help me through this hard time in my life. She’d comfort me when I’d meltdown and was overall a good person. After dating me for 3 months eventually my awkwardness and depression became too much for her and she dumped me. She still talks to me 4 months later and we are still friends but there is some pain there. As far as the other 2 who are actually currently dating they were both nice to me and were part of a group in band I hung out with at the end of my senior year. When I told them about my problems they went to a school counselor for help on how to deal with the situation. When my family heard about my depression it made things much worse and eventually my home life became hell. Ever since this all started I’ve struggled the pain of self loathing, mental abuse, loneliness, a sense of hopelessness, and as time has continued on a lot of it is now the guilt of burdening others with my problems. I have mental breakdowns all the time at home at night, I’m having trouble sleeping cause my mental pain is too much to bare and I’ve become more and more reckless in my everyday life. Part of these meltdowns is the fact that I have trouble with social situations not just because people stress me out but I can’t read emotions very well, I have trouble with showing empathy, I have trouble paying attention to people, I give off very little emotion, I have trouble telling when people are serious, just in general I’m really bad at social situations and that leads to me having a high lack of trust in people. I can’t tell if people like me or just stick around cause they don’t want to hurt me further. At this point I really feel just awful most of the time and lonely as I no longer have time to be around my few friends. To be honest I found this website while I was searching up methods to kill myself. I honestly don’t even know why I’m posting this other than that I’m hoping beyond hope someone can make me feel better. And yes I know many people have worse problems than mine so if all you can say is life could be worse I don’t want to hear it. These are my problems that I can’t cope with and telling me I can won’t change that. I just hate feeling so miserable all the time and I want to die more than anything in the world. The problem is I’ve found out killing yourself is very very hard to do. But what I also want is to find a reason to live because I don’t want to hurt my friends or further tear apart my already pretty destroyed family. As far as meds I have tried and all they do is leave me like a zombie and I can’t function. I just need help and don’t know where to get it and the only solution I can see is to kill myself. I don’t want to feel anymore pain, I don’t want more heartbreak, I can’t do it anymore. My depression is eating me alive and I don’t know what to do.
I’m just done. I really don’t know how to cope with anything anymore. My mom has been in a bad mood for the past week, because she is very stressed about christmas shopping. And of course whenever she’s angry, who does she take her anger out on? Her family. So her and my older brother were fighting about were the clicker was, and my mom got really angry. She was calling him a bastard, lazy ass etc. And my brother just said “Can you stop being a dick to me”, which he should never had said. She starts saying how terrible we all are then she attacks me and says how I’m such a *****. I was very angry, so i just said “I’m sick of this shit”. Then she starts bawling. And whenever she cries everyone comforts her and hugs her. When I cry I get called a drama queen and a ***** and everyone looks down on me. She is bawling about how she is so stressed and she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. But that’s how i feel when she taunts me and calls me names. Now she said she is bringing back all my christmas presents and that I’m nothing but a loudmouth *****. So now my phone is gone forever so now I can’t talk to anybody about this. I knew this would happen, it happens every single holiday. I can’t fucking stand being treated like this anymore. And I know once my dad gets home he’s going to attack me as well. They don’t even care anymore. They have still neglected my medical needs for months now. I still need a physical, a gastroenterologist, an MRI, an MRA, and a therapist. They don’t have enough money for a physical but they have enough money to buy a shitload of alcohol. I just need someone to listen to me, because no one else will. And I hate it when people tell me to get help not attention. I don’t want attention I want somebody to help me, because my parents refuse to help me, I don’t have a phone to talk to anyone, and my parents refuse to get me a therapist. They tell me I’m just wasting their money. I’m all alone. I have nobody. I’m still being bullied. I really do feel like dying, and the worst part is, nobody cares.
I can’t deal with being fucking bullied anymore. I’m still being called an idiot, a *****, a sociopath, and an attention seeker in person and online. I’ve gotten more threats, such as being pushed down stairs AGAIN and getting the shit kicked out of me. Meanwhile I don’t talk or interact with these people whatsoever. Seriously I cannot get away from this bullshit no matter what I do. The worst part is I can’t do shit about it because nobody fucking cares anymore. This is why I should just keep all of my emotions bottled up because whenever I share them I end up being criticized and belittled. But according to others I only “act” like this for attention and to make me feel “special”. What the fuck? I would NEVER in a million years, DELIBERATELY be this way. Why on EARTH would I want YOUR attention when I want you to leave me the fuck alone! And me being “special”? Me having a mental disability doesn’t mean I’m special, it means I HAVE A MENTAL DISABILITY. I already know I’m a shit person, I don’t need more people to tell me that.
As a kid growing up, I didn’t grow up happy. The pain I go through everyday of my life does not equal to the average kid today. My biological father was my everything to me when I was young. He was the only person I look up to. We weren’t close, but he was the one in my life that gave me hope and happiness. Around the age of five, I was oblivious to see our family problems. I had no idea what was going on. My father told me in the midst of my sleep that he loved me, that he was leaving. Again, I thought he would come back knowing he would wake up the same time every morning heading out to work and coming back home. I had no clue what was going on. I was just a kid. I remember seeing burning pictures of our family while I would be on my Playstation. A way to avoid my fears because I was terrified. I remember the continuous yelling and screaming from day to night. Soon, I started to see my mother with different men from time to time. We were poor a family. Just me and my mother staying at her friend’s place and I was afraid to be alone. I was afraid to be alone because my mother would go out to a bar or a club every night while my five year old self would sit in a room in a house full of strangers, in a room with no television or a clock. We stayed at her friend’s place for several months. When my mother was engaged to her boyfriend, I was sent to my grandmother’s place to stay. I was in kindergarten and was lacking English skills which was difficult for me to make friends. Family problems were truly damaging my education and schooling. Everyday for two years, I wonder when I will be living with my mother again. When my mother got married to this man, my step father, she was also pregnant. I was really excited knowing that I will have a sibling. I will have someone to talk to, to take care of, and to not feel alone. Because of my mother being pregnant, we looked for a place to stay. We found a one room apartment near my grandparent’s place and decided to move in. I slept on the ground everyday from second grade until third grade. I didn’t mind. I was still that one kid who was afraid of ghosts and monsters. I lost many hours of sleep every night because I would be in the living room alone. I was afraid to sleep, afraid to keep my eyes shut. I had to leave the television on running so there could be some background noise which was less frightening for me. I would normally wake up early for school like every other kids do. My grandfather would drive to our place to pick me up and drop me off at school and I would be picked up after school by my grandfather. After school, my grandparents would babysit me at their place. It would be like this everyday until I was in 4th grade when hell began. We moved into a different city about 40 minutes away from my grandparents. I have a sister. There were many different ethnic background and it was my third elementary school since my biological dad left. I still haven’t seen or talked to my father ever since he left. When I was registering for school, I was suppose to be in third grade, but because of my age, they asked if I wanted to skip third grade and move onto fourth grade. I was just a kid and I didn’t know what would be the best decision for me. My step-father told them to move me up a grade. School began and I was starting fourth grade with no knowledge of what a third grader should know. Because of this, I was even further behind in class. This new life was great at first, but that changed. I realize how much I am behind. The school counselor had to place me in a speech class because of this reason. I was called “gay” for not knowing my stuff. I was bullied and hurt. I was a broken kid. My parents partied everyday in our new apartment continuously. I locked myself in my room listening to their party music blasting loudly for nearly every single day. Sometimes, I would wake up and they would still be partying. I would come home from school and the same thing would still be going on. They had no clue how horrible I was doing at school and didn’t care for how I do. Because of this reason, it made me feel bad about myself and I suddenly just lost motivation. I stopped doing my homework and I began to feel more depress. I started thinking more about life and my wonderful family that doesn’t exist. I would always ask myself this one specific question, “What would life be like for me right now if I stayed with my biological father?”. Because of parties involving alcohol, my parents began to fight and it became a daily thing for them. When they fight, I would cuddle up in a room. I would cry alone with no one there for me. I was afraid of going home to see them fight and I was afraid to go to school because I would be verbally abused due to my lack of education. I started learning how to do bigger chores because I wanted to help out my family. I was a neat freak. Most kids would go out to play and have fun around my age, but instead, I learn how to vacuum, do my family’s laundries, wash the dishes, and folding my family’s clothes. When I see kids with their parents at school, I notice how much more supportive their parents are to them. I was jealous because they have the family that I wanted. To have someone supporting you, helping you achieve, and checking up on your education would be the best I could ask for. I accepted the fact that no one could have what they want. After several years of living in that apartment, we moved into a three story house. I thought our family would change after moving here, but the parties migrated to this house as well. I was still attending the same school and was in 6th grade. I was still the kid that is behind in class, but now known as the troubled kid. I had given up on everything and could care less about school. I was still verbally abused and was sent to the principal’s office for half of the year. I was sent there for not doing my daily homework. I missed almost every single recess and had detention everyday. I fought and argued with my mother more often and it soon to become a daily thing for us. It went from verbally abuse to physically abuse. As elementary school was near ending, I was told that I won’t be moving forward. I was told to repeat 6th grade, but in a different school this time. I faced depression everyday of my life and when I sat in the principal’s office, I could hear the kids taking their graduation picture. I was the odd one out, alone. On our last day at that school, I grabbed my stuff from class. Packing up, ready to leave. Students already knew I was the dumb gay kid that won’t be moving on. The kid who won’t be successful in life. The kid with no support in his family. I was depress wanting to burst some tears walking along the hall. I was then pushed to the ground and kids were laughing at me. Drew on my face with a marker. I didn’t want to cry in front of people walking past by. I come home that day and was verbally abused for not passing 6th grade. Violent terms such as “I rather raise a dog than you”, “Motherf*cker”, and it gets worse. I question my life and ask myself why I don’t have the family I deserve. Why am I not like other kids? Why am I the outcast? I became mentally unstable and depression hits even harder than before. As 6th grade started again for me, my sister was in school as well. My parents cared a lot for my sister and I’ve never really had what she had. I wasn’t picky about things and I didn’t mind. As long as my half sister is happy, then I’m happy. 2nd year of 6th grade wasn’t so bad and I was glad that I made through it. During my year here, there was an economic crash which caused us to move from place to place. I was still attending the same school and it had very little impact on my education. I wasn’t the top student, but I was close to the last and barely made it into 7th grade. My mother and I still fought and I began feeling suicidal. I hurt myself and had several attempts. I was bullied when I entered 7th grade. I was the only Asian student there and there were many Hispanics. I was called “Chino” and other hurtful terms. I was being harass every day. I had to take the bus to school and I was afraid of seeing these students on the bus with me. I was afraid of everything in my life. My parents, my school, and my education. I was afraid and terrified where I would end up. I always felt like suicide is the only choice, the only way out. The only way to make things better and to cause less problems for my family. My parents didn’t know I have suicide thoughts. They didn’t know. I was still verbally abused by my mother when I don’t do what she wants. They knew what I was capable of doing when it comes to house chores, so I had to constantly wash the dishes and clean the house more. I was distracted and was never able to fully complete my homework. I was still giving up and didn’t care anymore about life. My carelessness caused my mother and I to fight even more. From here on, my whole entire family sees me as the bad kid and the one causing worse for my family. I moved to three different middle schools from 7th til 8th grade. When I graduated middle school, I was really happy. It was not suppose to be that big of an accomplishment feeling, but it did. I was happy and expected to see my parents going to my graduation. No one was there. My family wasn’t there. I see other kids family, but not mine. Why? As graduation was ending, I had to walk home and continued everyday like an average normal day. During that time, I had another sister which equals to two by now. We also have a babysitter who comes over everyday to watch her. High school was when everything changed for me. My freshman year was the year I didn’t care much because my life sucks. I didn’t even care for it after all of those suicide attempts, after all of the abuse, after all of the pain. Why should I even care? I messed up freshman year terribly and had to repeat my classes. I moved on to sophomore year and I decided to give myself a fresh start. When sophomore year begun, I was moving to a different school and a different house. Moving to many schools really made it difficult for me to make friends, a close friend. I wanted to be someone else my sophomore year. When school started, I signed up for many different clubs and I was also in choir. I started to be the kid I never expected to be. Popular. I became popular with all of the clubs I am in, with the choir concerts and school activities I attend, and with how many events I attended. I was also in a sport. That made me feel a thousand times better because I am usually a lonely person. I auditioned for a musical and got in. I rehearsed hours and hours every single day and up until the premier of the musical. I wanted my parents to attend. I wanted to show them how hard I work for this musical piece. Instead, they went clubbing and didn’t care about it. Didn’t even hear one word of compliment about how much I’ve worked. I also learn how to avoid suicide and became more of an optimistic person throughout high school. I told myself, “Why should I suicide when I could be out there helping people preventing them”?. I started helping my community by doing community services and helping special ed kids. I got awards for doing them and it made me feel much better. I was still slacking off in school and as senior year hits, I realized I was entering the real world. I was known for helping with community services. I was in an anti bullying club, community service, and ones where we help kids with special needs. I enjoyed helping. I just didn’t enjoy school and didn’t enjoy staying home. Life was terrible except when I’m away from it helping. At the end of the school year, I didn’t graduate. I failed and was depress. Depression hit even harder than I’ve imagined. My parents didn’t say anything. I didn’t care. I realized that they weren’t as supportive. I also learn the fact that my biological father left me and we lost contact. I didn’t have anyone by my side. I didn’t have a best friend or someone helping me. My counselor gave me a chance by giving me packets to work on and I took it to help myself succeed. I slowly lost all of my friends and became an anti social person staying home watching my sisters as my parents go out and have fun. I stayed home. Months into independent study, I found out my mom had accidentally threw away my work. Months of work, gone. I feel like giving up now. All I could think of, suicide is the best choice. I never had the supportive family I wanted. My mother wants to kick me out and I have nowhere to go. I don’t have a diploma and I’m a failure. When I am depress, my way of escaping is through music. Through singing and guitar. I found out, I’m nothing more than a useless scum on this planet. Was I raised in the wrong family? This is the life I would never dream of….Depression, Pain, Bullies, Suicide, Abusive, Lonely …which lead me to drugs and alcohol. I’ve always wanted a better life. There is only one life.
What I thought was going to be a great Thanksgiving turned into a nightmare. My mom once again had one of her huge outbursts and just had to make everyone upset. It started out as a fight between her and my dad, they were screaming and my mom threatened divorce, and then she was fighting with my grandma. She was getting into her face calling her names and screaming. I would not allow her to treat my grandmother like that. I had to tell her to stop. Then she was following me around the house screaming for me to give her my phone. She kept pushing her body into mine to try and keep me from moving, so i ran up the stairs towards my room and she followed me. Then she grabbed me and pushed me in my room. I just kept yelling leave me alone. And she said ”If you say leave me alone one more time I’m gonna knock you out.” So I kept running away and she kept following me. Eventually my dad came to me and asked for my phone without screaming, so I gave it to him. But my mom continued to follow me and taunt me calling me a *****. Then she was making up stories that I when she came in my room i said ”Get out of my room” meanwhile she FOLLOWED me in there and PUSHED me inside. I told her that was a huge lie. Then she said ”No that’s why you have no friends because you’re a liar.” because I had a fight with my old friends a few weeks back. So I went back downstairs and she was still following me. She bashed her body into mine and I hit into the wall. Then my older brother got involved and told her how disgusted he was with her behavior. My mom came and tried to hurt me again and my brother stood in front of her. Then she was mad at him also and was still taunting me. This whole time my little brother was screaming at her to stop, so she was yelling at him too. So both my brothers and myself went into our living room, and cried. I had not seen my older brother cry since we went to a funeral years ago. Then my mom came back and started talking to my older brother. He kept saying it’s not fair, because it’s not. He just came back from college the day before, and he kept saying that he was so happy to come home and now he didn’t even want to be around her. Because when my brother came home a few weeks back, my mom had an outburst. So she said in an angry tone ”Sorry.” And now she’s pretending like nothing happened. I am so mad at her I don’t even want to see her. She continually said “Oh everyone has bad days, mom’s are allowed to have them too.” And she told me that I should be thankful that she doesn’t hit me. I can’t deal with all of this anymore. Whether I am at home or at school, I am taunted, bullied, and I feel absolutely worthless. Right now I don’t feel the reason for working, or talking, or trying, I’m just done.