BluSapphireEyes
January 29th, 2012, 06:18 AM
Hey, I'm Alexandra (Alex or Lexie, if you wanna shorten it). I suffer from major depressive disorder and have been struggling with self-harm for almost 5 years. I began when I was 11, and I'm less than 6 months away from being 16.
I have been in therapy for 2 and a half years, and I started medication for about 6 weeks, but we ran out of money and I've been off of my Zoloft. Everything that is said to me makes me upset. Especially my mom. It's like every time I look at her, she cusses me out and talks to me like she hates me and I'm the enemy. My dad abandoned me for good around Christmastime by kicking me out of his house (the home I grew up in before the divorce), so you can imagine how alone this made me feel. I've begun cutting again. On my thighs, because if you do it on your wrists, you're just begging for someone to see them. I have about 13, 4 inch scars on my right thigh, and about 11 scars of the same size on my left thigh.
Earlier, this week, my mother and I got into a fight. I told her I was cutting, yet again, and she told me to get over myself and grow up because it "sure as hell isn't her fault." That day I sat in the car after she got out of it for a half hour, and when I came back in she was asleep. So I did those chores she was screaming at me to do, and I went to the medicine cabinet. My sisters weren't home. It was just she and I. I got all of the random prescription medications I could find, my razor, and a glass of water. I cleared off the kitchen table outside of her bedroom door. The picture I was imagining her seeing was me knocked out on that table in a pool of blood. All I could think was
Maybe if I kill myself, she'll change. Maybe if I do this, DAD will change. They'll learn to appreciate their daughters way more than they have been. I was the biggest mistake they ever made in having children. It's better me die for this than one of my baby sisters.
I just stared at the meds for about 10 minutes. And then I realized what I told Tori, my best friend, who is struggling with self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts as well.
Tori, suicide is never the answer. Let me quote from the Harry Potter books. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times; but only if one remembers to turn on the light." Albus Dumbledore said that. Even though he's a fictional character, he is one of my role models. This means that if you allow yourself, you will see that there is something to be happy and smile about every time you open your eyes. I know it doesn't feel like it, but there is.
What kind of best friend would I be if I gave that advice and then killed myself? A pretty terrible one.
I don't know what to do. The thoughts won't leave me alone. Every time I get depressed, my first instinct is to cut. And if it gets bad enough, I start thinking of all the different ways I could kill myself with the items around me.
Can any of you lovely people help me?
I have been in therapy for 2 and a half years, and I started medication for about 6 weeks, but we ran out of money and I've been off of my Zoloft. Everything that is said to me makes me upset. Especially my mom. It's like every time I look at her, she cusses me out and talks to me like she hates me and I'm the enemy. My dad abandoned me for good around Christmastime by kicking me out of his house (the home I grew up in before the divorce), so you can imagine how alone this made me feel. I've begun cutting again. On my thighs, because if you do it on your wrists, you're just begging for someone to see them. I have about 13, 4 inch scars on my right thigh, and about 11 scars of the same size on my left thigh.
Earlier, this week, my mother and I got into a fight. I told her I was cutting, yet again, and she told me to get over myself and grow up because it "sure as hell isn't her fault." That day I sat in the car after she got out of it for a half hour, and when I came back in she was asleep. So I did those chores she was screaming at me to do, and I went to the medicine cabinet. My sisters weren't home. It was just she and I. I got all of the random prescription medications I could find, my razor, and a glass of water. I cleared off the kitchen table outside of her bedroom door. The picture I was imagining her seeing was me knocked out on that table in a pool of blood. All I could think was
Maybe if I kill myself, she'll change. Maybe if I do this, DAD will change. They'll learn to appreciate their daughters way more than they have been. I was the biggest mistake they ever made in having children. It's better me die for this than one of my baby sisters.
I just stared at the meds for about 10 minutes. And then I realized what I told Tori, my best friend, who is struggling with self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts as well.
Tori, suicide is never the answer. Let me quote from the Harry Potter books. "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times; but only if one remembers to turn on the light." Albus Dumbledore said that. Even though he's a fictional character, he is one of my role models. This means that if you allow yourself, you will see that there is something to be happy and smile about every time you open your eyes. I know it doesn't feel like it, but there is.
What kind of best friend would I be if I gave that advice and then killed myself? A pretty terrible one.
I don't know what to do. The thoughts won't leave me alone. Every time I get depressed, my first instinct is to cut. And if it gets bad enough, I start thinking of all the different ways I could kill myself with the items around me.
Can any of you lovely people help me?