Wolf Teen
February 1st, 2009, 08:53 PM
It’s so easy to think these thoughts. They run through my head constantly, yet…I never quite got used to them. Those thoughts kill me. Not that there was much left…But still. The fact that all of you smile so brightly, and I have to fake it. That’s on thing that’s always on my mind.
What if you find out? What if I can’t make it without someone bursting in? Will the feelings that are killing me, go away? I really doubt it. Cause they edge on me all the time. These thoughts. Thoughts that might seem crazy to you…
My sister…I guess that’s what I can call you. The person whom hasn’t ever abandon me. My best friend. My first friend. The person who gave me confidence, but also made sure I wasn’t to stuck up. Not sure if that worked, but you seem to be satisfied. I’m not sure if you see me as a sister too. How could I?
But I wish I knew…Cause you were one of the people that have kept pulling me off the ledge. Quite a few people are….Its just, the fact is, more people are pushing me off.
I trust you. I think, maybe, you might trust me too. That’s why I wonder what will happen if you find out about this habit of mine. I quit for a while…Stress just builds up though. I know I don’t have any reason to complain. Mom has to go to Chemo, and my Step-dad has to take her there. I know half my friends have larger problems than me. But when I can’t get to writing, an outlet, I have to turn to something.
Some people don’t have anyone. So that’s one of the reasons I feel guilty when I do it. Fact is though, it doesn’t outweigh the burning on my arm
That wonderful, beautiful burning. The thing that keeps me here. I wonder what you would do if you found out. Shun me, perhaps? Never talk to me? Beg me to stop? I wonder…
I have a million questions on my mind. One of the most important one’s, Would you care if I died? I must be really crazy to think that, let alone say it. But say it I did. Lunch table, second quarter. I asked it. You all looked at me as if I was crazy.
“Of course!” One of my closest friends answers. When the others answered it, I felt a deep sense of relief.
But I don’t believe that what they said was real. Because they mocked, begging me to pull the trigger. Shoved me, laughed at me. Said I was a loser. The habit starts again.
One of my more caring teachers sometimes asked me what was wrong. I’d just put on a smile and say it was nothing. My counselor suggested it may have to do with my mom being in Chemo. I didn’t exactly enjoy that comment, but I tried to push it out of my mind. I could forgive him. Because, oddly enough, he did seem to understand a bit.
My teachers last year hovered over me, always saying if something was wrong, they could help. But I kept up with my homework, and tried to look happy.
I don’t think it worked. On the last day of school, my teachers commented that I looked so much happier than usual. Actually, I was dieing inside. I wanted to shout at them, “Are you blind! Help me, please!” I wanted to beg it so bad. But that would just prove their theories. I didn’t want to be noted crazy.
My teachers last year were caring. They were kind to me, hovering, though they did. I couldn’t pull off many long sleeve shirts. Maybe one a week. I started wearing bands to hide the evidence.
Then I started higher up. Hiding wasn’t so hard then. It was relatively easy. If they saw a peek, I’d simply say, Archer wounds. Not that un-believable. Unless you were an Archer, like me. Any regular archer would recognize that those were not the normal size or shape of a bow string. If I noted that it was a pieced string, or one that had many small strings that made a large pull back, it was more believable. The fact that it was also on the wrong side of the arm was a good indication, or that it was far to high up.
That’s why I hated telling people that. One of my favorite bows was my 70 lbs. which could impress anyone. If it hit your arm, it stung like crazy, sometimes broke the skin.
As I sit here, talking about what runs through my head, one of the thoughts was The Sickness. Yeah, it’s a song as well. But its what I named the thoughts that run through my head.
It starts with one small thought. Could be anything. Just talking about Twilight could make it happen. When it did, it killed me. Thoughts ran through your head without any distraction. Even when talking to someone it stayed there. You had to work harder than ever to keep from blurting them out. Stomach aches came with it, though I think it may just be my imagination. Within the 10-20 minutes of it happening, it subsides. It feels like hours, days. But its only mere minutes. It usually happens when I’m home alone.
But it sometimes happens in school, too. That’s when I have to hide. Sometimes I pretend I feel like I’m going to be sick and go to the nurses office, let it subside. Then I go back, and if it happens again I’ll just try to ignore it.
If it happens on Reward day, I have to be really careful. If it was to happen then, ignoring it is hard. Sometimes it works. Not all the time, though.
Last time it happened when I was in school, after Reward day. We could do whatever, but it started to kick in. I tried to just act like I was tired, but it only took 15 minutes to subside. When my teacher saw that I was “sick”, she suggested I lay down. I told her no, I just wanted to stay here for a bit. When it subsided, I was back to my old self.
I’m not saying this only happens occasionally. As said before, the thoughts run constantly through my head. But I can block them out those times. In Drama Club, I just have to pretend I’m not who I am. I just have to pretend I’m someone else.
In any other class, its harder. Blocking them out is like trying not to listen. You focus all your energy into one thing that the people around you are saying, or read something to try and make it go away. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
I think they know I’m crazy. I really think they do. Their just in denial, like I was. And I can live like that.
‘Cause, as long as I live, I know there will be pain.
What if you find out? What if I can’t make it without someone bursting in? Will the feelings that are killing me, go away? I really doubt it. Cause they edge on me all the time. These thoughts. Thoughts that might seem crazy to you…
My sister…I guess that’s what I can call you. The person whom hasn’t ever abandon me. My best friend. My first friend. The person who gave me confidence, but also made sure I wasn’t to stuck up. Not sure if that worked, but you seem to be satisfied. I’m not sure if you see me as a sister too. How could I?
But I wish I knew…Cause you were one of the people that have kept pulling me off the ledge. Quite a few people are….Its just, the fact is, more people are pushing me off.
I trust you. I think, maybe, you might trust me too. That’s why I wonder what will happen if you find out about this habit of mine. I quit for a while…Stress just builds up though. I know I don’t have any reason to complain. Mom has to go to Chemo, and my Step-dad has to take her there. I know half my friends have larger problems than me. But when I can’t get to writing, an outlet, I have to turn to something.
Some people don’t have anyone. So that’s one of the reasons I feel guilty when I do it. Fact is though, it doesn’t outweigh the burning on my arm
That wonderful, beautiful burning. The thing that keeps me here. I wonder what you would do if you found out. Shun me, perhaps? Never talk to me? Beg me to stop? I wonder…
I have a million questions on my mind. One of the most important one’s, Would you care if I died? I must be really crazy to think that, let alone say it. But say it I did. Lunch table, second quarter. I asked it. You all looked at me as if I was crazy.
“Of course!” One of my closest friends answers. When the others answered it, I felt a deep sense of relief.
But I don’t believe that what they said was real. Because they mocked, begging me to pull the trigger. Shoved me, laughed at me. Said I was a loser. The habit starts again.
One of my more caring teachers sometimes asked me what was wrong. I’d just put on a smile and say it was nothing. My counselor suggested it may have to do with my mom being in Chemo. I didn’t exactly enjoy that comment, but I tried to push it out of my mind. I could forgive him. Because, oddly enough, he did seem to understand a bit.
My teachers last year hovered over me, always saying if something was wrong, they could help. But I kept up with my homework, and tried to look happy.
I don’t think it worked. On the last day of school, my teachers commented that I looked so much happier than usual. Actually, I was dieing inside. I wanted to shout at them, “Are you blind! Help me, please!” I wanted to beg it so bad. But that would just prove their theories. I didn’t want to be noted crazy.
My teachers last year were caring. They were kind to me, hovering, though they did. I couldn’t pull off many long sleeve shirts. Maybe one a week. I started wearing bands to hide the evidence.
Then I started higher up. Hiding wasn’t so hard then. It was relatively easy. If they saw a peek, I’d simply say, Archer wounds. Not that un-believable. Unless you were an Archer, like me. Any regular archer would recognize that those were not the normal size or shape of a bow string. If I noted that it was a pieced string, or one that had many small strings that made a large pull back, it was more believable. The fact that it was also on the wrong side of the arm was a good indication, or that it was far to high up.
That’s why I hated telling people that. One of my favorite bows was my 70 lbs. which could impress anyone. If it hit your arm, it stung like crazy, sometimes broke the skin.
As I sit here, talking about what runs through my head, one of the thoughts was The Sickness. Yeah, it’s a song as well. But its what I named the thoughts that run through my head.
It starts with one small thought. Could be anything. Just talking about Twilight could make it happen. When it did, it killed me. Thoughts ran through your head without any distraction. Even when talking to someone it stayed there. You had to work harder than ever to keep from blurting them out. Stomach aches came with it, though I think it may just be my imagination. Within the 10-20 minutes of it happening, it subsides. It feels like hours, days. But its only mere minutes. It usually happens when I’m home alone.
But it sometimes happens in school, too. That’s when I have to hide. Sometimes I pretend I feel like I’m going to be sick and go to the nurses office, let it subside. Then I go back, and if it happens again I’ll just try to ignore it.
If it happens on Reward day, I have to be really careful. If it was to happen then, ignoring it is hard. Sometimes it works. Not all the time, though.
Last time it happened when I was in school, after Reward day. We could do whatever, but it started to kick in. I tried to just act like I was tired, but it only took 15 minutes to subside. When my teacher saw that I was “sick”, she suggested I lay down. I told her no, I just wanted to stay here for a bit. When it subsided, I was back to my old self.
I’m not saying this only happens occasionally. As said before, the thoughts run constantly through my head. But I can block them out those times. In Drama Club, I just have to pretend I’m not who I am. I just have to pretend I’m someone else.
In any other class, its harder. Blocking them out is like trying not to listen. You focus all your energy into one thing that the people around you are saying, or read something to try and make it go away. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
I think they know I’m crazy. I really think they do. Their just in denial, like I was. And I can live like that.
‘Cause, as long as I live, I know there will be pain.