“People say sticks and stones may break your bones, but names can never hurt you, but that’s not true. Words can hurt. They hurt me. Things were said to me that I still haven’t forgotten.” –Demi Lovato
Ever since elementary and middle school, from having really abusive teachers and bullying classmates, I have gone through many difficulties in my life. My sophomore year in high school is the day I started cutting myself. The reason is because I was bullied by almost everyone around me. I even had “friends” whom I found out they hate me this whole time and I had an abusive childhood best friend whom I’m no longer with. I’m now in college with a duo major in English and Philosophy, and I’m almost heading to graduate school to persist my major in Philosophy… and tragically, I’m still cutting myself.
It started off right in the classroom. It’s started off with the pointed end of my hairclip, then the end of a paperclip. Finally, when I went home, I used a shaving razor, from my forearms to all the way up to my wrists. This happened from high school to all the way to my first college years. When realizing that the razor is not good enough with me anymore, I went to the deep end by purchasing a pair of nail scissors behind everybody’s backs… and at the same time, it snip and cuts against my fragile skin.
It’s true when it’s across the street, you’ll survive; but… when you’re down the road, you’ll die. The streams I made are mostly across. However, I do have red streams that are straight up and diagonal. Not only have I done this to relief myself… I’m also trying to kill myself.
Everywhere I go, even when I’m in college, I still carry around my nail scissors just in case I really need them.
I thought to myself, “What if the world would be better off if I don’t exist?” My abusive family members, hateful ex-friends and everyone else would love it more if I’m no longer around. That’s why I wanted to do it.
I happened to be an extremely sensitive person. Words, no matter how they sound, both loud and cruel, would still make me want to cut myself to death. I hate being yelled at, I really do, no matter what tone they are. Every time I get yelled at over things that are not even my fault, I cry over a thousand tears and then harm myself real badly. Even if they sound cold, though not trying to be mean to me, I still harm myself. Laughter also makes me cry and try to commit death to myself. Same goes to a severe lack of love.
For many years, I tried to find a perfect love for myself, and alas, they never work out. Every time I find out that no guy or girl loves me back or break up with me… I would go into a severe mental and manic breakdown, and would do anything to commit suicide by cutting my wrists. I got so fed up with not having a perfect romantic partner, and whenever I see young couples all around me, I still would go into a depressive breakdown and I would immediately think about killing myself. Without any love, I will seriously die with a broken heart.
So whenever you see these marks and scars on my wrists, they’re a sign that either I’m going through a hard time or I’m trying to take my life away. They’re also signs that I’m screaming and crying for help despite that I really have no one around me to care about me… or love me… or even defend me from those heartless creatures.