AkuRokuStalker
November 9th, 2012, 06:51 PM
My life story
Well my parents divorced when I was three. My dad remarried withen a month or two afterwards and my real mom got a new boyfriend whom I hated with a passion. They had got a divorce because when my mom got back surgery she got hooked on drugs and was just about off when she died when I was seven. I visited her on the weekend before she died. In no way shape or form doid I ever think it was my fault.
My step-mom is the wicked witch of the west. I HATE her. She says I'm a manipulative brat who has no sense of loyalty and every other word out of my mouth is a lie. She is the main reason I started up cutting actually, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Sure I lied to her when I was younger, but doesn't every kid. She just really over reacted about it. And I'm not a spoiled brat considering I'm best friends with all the outcasts and others. I have friends EVERYWHERE, most people when they get to know me love me (I know that sound egotistical). I'm the freak of my school and proud. I'm a ball of hyperness when I'm off my medicine. It was a suprise to my friend when they found out.
After my mom died it is pretty much a blank untill I was 10 when I was molested by my cousin. I blame myself though and I know it was my fault. If I would have just left it would have ended but I was looking for love and found it in the wrong place. It left me with a really deep mental scar. Sure I said no over and over and over, but it never worked.
The real shit did not happen until I was 13 though. At night I started going through fits of depression and no one knew for a long time. It was because I had to much time on my hands to think and just sit there and do nothing.It was a mixture of anger and deep pain. The cutting actualy started with the odd taste for blood. I know it disturbing. Then I got the idea to cut when I got depressd and it made me feel so much better so I kept it up. Even in the early stages it was bad. I cut so much on my left wrist that it is just one giant scar and the only difference is the ability to see my vain more clearly. It took my parents two months to find out and when they found out. They took my razor blade and things. They started to strip check me when they found out I cut other than my wrist. Everything went away then, and I already did not have alot to do with myself to start with. They started me in cousiling and that was the time I went to the pshyciatric hospital for the first time for four days for wanting to kill my step mom ( I told you I hate her). It was okay but it did not make me stop, infact my depression got worse because they made me relize evrything that is wrong with my life and that was how I coped by ignoring things. Two months later I went again for wanting to kill myself because of my self esteam issues (which I still have) I did not try to stop cutting then either, infact it got worse. I moved to my stomach, thighs, ass, shoulders and back of my neck. I cut every afternoon befor I got in the shower and before I went to bed sometimes before school and my finger tips at school. I would paint myself with my blood before I got in the shower. I love to see it all over my body and dripping down my body the red lines fasinated me and... you probably don't want to to hear this. This is actually the stay they isolated me at a desk to do paper work beacuse I was border line personality disorder. Everybody bellieved them to and my parents started mocking me. (especially my mom) Then a month later I went again for some reason and actualy tried to stop cutting, but withen a month I started back up again. They [placed me at a desk for a week that time.(I stayed for two) My parents tstarted saying I was possed by deamons and need God. I started to hate religion awhen they started shoving it down my throat. They even tried to get me to go to a long term religiose pysch hospital for troubled teens. Which was stupid and I decided not to go cause it had to be willingly. Then I went again a month later for some reason (but it was a new hospital). They did not really do much for me. When I got home it was a slow horrible decline for me. I got as far as giving a suicide note to my best friend and carving my suicide note into my right leg (I got tired of the BS...) I had the pills in my hand and I just could not do it cause I swore I heard my Dad crying in his room. I eneded up telling him. My depression got better after that. But I was still cutting. Finally I attempted to stop again. I ened up cutting the tops of my feet with a paperclips instead. My new pshyciatrist labled me bi-polar and put me on Lithium for two months and that was pure hell. It probably did the worst for me. I would get up and leave in tears in the middle of class for no reason. Then it caused a stuter in my speech and took down every emotional block I had. I was a whole different person and not for the better. Then I told him about the paranoia and thay staryted me on Respirdol. Everything was better after that. Months passed and I went to my Grandmaws for the summer. I love going to her house I used to go every other weekend up untill I started cutting at thirteen, then they banned me as a punishment.I stopped cutting while I was there then near the end of the summer we came up with the idea for me to move in with her and now I'm going to a private school and even have a boyfriend and have completly stopped cutting untill recently. The cravings are back and I did it two days ago and the need is ripping me to shreds. I'm falling back into a deppresion and I need help. Nothing is working... Please someone help... I dont want to go back down that road.
Well my parents divorced when I was three. My dad remarried withen a month or two afterwards and my real mom got a new boyfriend whom I hated with a passion. They had got a divorce because when my mom got back surgery she got hooked on drugs and was just about off when she died when I was seven. I visited her on the weekend before she died. In no way shape or form doid I ever think it was my fault.
My step-mom is the wicked witch of the west. I HATE her. She says I'm a manipulative brat who has no sense of loyalty and every other word out of my mouth is a lie. She is the main reason I started up cutting actually, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Sure I lied to her when I was younger, but doesn't every kid. She just really over reacted about it. And I'm not a spoiled brat considering I'm best friends with all the outcasts and others. I have friends EVERYWHERE, most people when they get to know me love me (I know that sound egotistical). I'm the freak of my school and proud. I'm a ball of hyperness when I'm off my medicine. It was a suprise to my friend when they found out.
After my mom died it is pretty much a blank untill I was 10 when I was molested by my cousin. I blame myself though and I know it was my fault. If I would have just left it would have ended but I was looking for love and found it in the wrong place. It left me with a really deep mental scar. Sure I said no over and over and over, but it never worked.
The real shit did not happen until I was 13 though. At night I started going through fits of depression and no one knew for a long time. It was because I had to much time on my hands to think and just sit there and do nothing.It was a mixture of anger and deep pain. The cutting actualy started with the odd taste for blood. I know it disturbing. Then I got the idea to cut when I got depressd and it made me feel so much better so I kept it up. Even in the early stages it was bad. I cut so much on my left wrist that it is just one giant scar and the only difference is the ability to see my vain more clearly. It took my parents two months to find out and when they found out. They took my razor blade and things. They started to strip check me when they found out I cut other than my wrist. Everything went away then, and I already did not have alot to do with myself to start with. They started me in cousiling and that was the time I went to the pshyciatric hospital for the first time for four days for wanting to kill my step mom ( I told you I hate her). It was okay but it did not make me stop, infact my depression got worse because they made me relize evrything that is wrong with my life and that was how I coped by ignoring things. Two months later I went again for wanting to kill myself because of my self esteam issues (which I still have) I did not try to stop cutting then either, infact it got worse. I moved to my stomach, thighs, ass, shoulders and back of my neck. I cut every afternoon befor I got in the shower and before I went to bed sometimes before school and my finger tips at school. I would paint myself with my blood before I got in the shower. I love to see it all over my body and dripping down my body the red lines fasinated me and... you probably don't want to to hear this. This is actually the stay they isolated me at a desk to do paper work beacuse I was border line personality disorder. Everybody bellieved them to and my parents started mocking me. (especially my mom) Then a month later I went again for some reason and actualy tried to stop cutting, but withen a month I started back up again. They [placed me at a desk for a week that time.(I stayed for two) My parents tstarted saying I was possed by deamons and need God. I started to hate religion awhen they started shoving it down my throat. They even tried to get me to go to a long term religiose pysch hospital for troubled teens. Which was stupid and I decided not to go cause it had to be willingly. Then I went again a month later for some reason (but it was a new hospital). They did not really do much for me. When I got home it was a slow horrible decline for me. I got as far as giving a suicide note to my best friend and carving my suicide note into my right leg (I got tired of the BS...) I had the pills in my hand and I just could not do it cause I swore I heard my Dad crying in his room. I eneded up telling him. My depression got better after that. But I was still cutting. Finally I attempted to stop again. I ened up cutting the tops of my feet with a paperclips instead. My new pshyciatrist labled me bi-polar and put me on Lithium for two months and that was pure hell. It probably did the worst for me. I would get up and leave in tears in the middle of class for no reason. Then it caused a stuter in my speech and took down every emotional block I had. I was a whole different person and not for the better. Then I told him about the paranoia and thay staryted me on Respirdol. Everything was better after that. Months passed and I went to my Grandmaws for the summer. I love going to her house I used to go every other weekend up untill I started cutting at thirteen, then they banned me as a punishment.I stopped cutting while I was there then near the end of the summer we came up with the idea for me to move in with her and now I'm going to a private school and even have a boyfriend and have completly stopped cutting untill recently. The cravings are back and I did it two days ago and the need is ripping me to shreds. I'm falling back into a deppresion and I need help. Nothing is working... Please someone help... I dont want to go back down that road.