Post Your Story.

[Haven]

Post your story. Your life. What has happened to you up until this point, etc. It doesn't have to be every aspect, you can leave out whatever you'd like, but I'd love to see what we've all been through. I don't really know any of you and all, but sometimes it's nice to know other people are/have experienced what we've been through.

I'll start off. You don't have to read all of it, or any of it, if you don't want to. But yeah. <3

My name is Wayne and I have a consistent struggle with my weight and happiness. Throughout the last couple of years I've been plagued with thoughts from everyone around me of how I will never be good enough for anyone, about how disgusting of a human being I am, and basically a continual path of how 'fat' I am. My parents have never stepped back from an opportunity to make me feel like shit and jump down my throat, and they've always been vocal about the things I do wrong. I'm different from my entire family in more ways than I could ever imagine, and it increasingly makes life hard. People think it's just because I like to disagree, but in reality I prefer being who I am rather than conforming to what everyone else thinks. My family is republican (because both my parents work for big jobs within the government, this affects my life a lot), I'm far from a republican. My family despises homosexuality, I'm gay. Little things like this make each day an increasing struggle.

When I was seven or eight, my parents split up for a good year and a half. During this time I'm assuming that a huge gap grew between my dad, and ever since I've never been close to him. Or that's what my dad likes to throw into my face every chance he gets. My parents aren't happy with one another, and they fight nearly every day. The yelling, screaming, name calling, tears is slowly driving me crazy. I usually stay out of it, but sometimes I'm forced into it - either by name dropping, or in order to get them to part ways and go away from one another. My dad is a high-ranked cop and he has a lot of frustration at work. He brings this mentality home, and forces it against my sister, my mother, and myself. In his mind, we're the criminals and if we don't abide by what he thinks is right, then we're doing something wrong. And thus, he starts yelling. He starts fighting, and he starts issues.

Anyways, my mother and my father don't get along at all. They only got together again, in my honest opinion, because both my sister and I still live at home. When I depart for college next year, I'm mentally preparing myself for their divorce. It's inevitable, but I honestly wish they'd just get it done with now. My family is a fucked up mess, and there's a lot more that I could write, but I'll probably forget things and misinterpret them. In truth; I dislike my family, and next year? That's my escape. My mother has slowly recognized this, and she's pretty much aware that when I leave for college, the likelihood of me coming back is extremely slim.

In middle school I was taunted every day. Made fun of, cussed at, and to a lesser degree physically and mentally abused. I was made fun of for the smallest things. How my hair looked, how I spoke, how I walked. I was made fun of for being gay, for being different, for being who I was. And ever since, I can't forget the things they've said. I trusted these people, thought they were my friends. But instead, they threw everything back at my face. They treated me like utter shit, and they hurt me more than they could ever imagine. I came home with migraines on a daily basis, I came home with bruises, tears, and overall pain. But no one ever saw this. I hid it from the world, and I slowly began to hide myself from the world. After all, if my 'friends' could never like me, who on else would?

Today I have major trust issues with people. It takes me forever to open up to people in real life, and by the time I'm ready to open up to them, they're already gone. It's not an unfamiliar thought though. I'm used to people leaving my life, and I'm used to the pain which coincides with it. In essence it has worn off on my life. Without even noticing it, without even realizing what I'm doing, I shut people out and push them away. I stop talking to them, I stop responding, and I just ignore them until they're gone. And then for a moment, I realize what I've done, and that I'm once again left alone. And all these thoughts come crashing down.

Most people don't know this part of my life, but I guess I'll say it anyways because I doubt anyone will read down to this point. I've contemplated suicide on multiple occasions, and although I've never self-harmed myself, I have gotten to the point where I begin to take more and more pills. One night the thoughts in my head had gotten to be too much, so I started taking medicine. One after another after another. I don't remember how many I took, but I don't really remember that night at all after that point. I just remember the pain, the pills, and wanting to disappear. People think I'm weird when I don't take medicine, and this is why. I can't control myself to this day, and without realizing it, I've taken nine motrin for a simple headache.

But life is hard. Two years ago I was days away from being rushed to the mental hospital to be treated with anorexia. I peaked at a weight of 106 pounds at a height of 6'2", and had it not been for me pushing myself to gain weight, I would either be dead or in a hospital now. I don't know what stopped me, but I surely know that every day I continue to want to lose weight. I'm beginning to limit my eating again. I'm beginning to see these images in the mirror of this obtuse being, and I'm beginning to wish I was thin and beautiful. So many people have told me I'm ugly, fat, disgusting... and I believe them. I'm a fat human being, and the only way to get past this is to stop eating. then maybe someone will love me for who I've become.

I can honestly say, I have no real desire to keep pushing forward. I say I'm 'sick' when I don't go to school, but in reality I've lost all motivation to go. But for some reason, It's only momentary. I have to keep going, and I have to try to better my life. Without this, I might as well hang myself now. There's one real person who keeps me going, and had it not been for her, I don't know where I'd be now. She is my best friend, she is my inspiration, and she is all i could ever ask for in a person. My insecurities disappear when I'm around her, and I could tell her everything and know that for once I wasn't being judged. Thank you Katlin, for you're truly a main reason for me still being here.

I have one year left until college, and each day is going to be a struggle. I've had more of a life lately, not because I want to but because I have to. I'm socially awkward as fuck, and I need to fix this on top of other things before I go to college. I need to better myself, before it's too late. Less than one year to go. Less than three hundred and sixty five days a year. And one of my only questions; can I make it?

Sorry for this being so long. I apologize.

[georgiamay]

when i was younger, my mum was depressed (bipolar and post natal) and that triggered her drinking problem. it tore my family apart, and my parents ended up getting divorced. my dad met a women he ended up marrying, and i love her to pieces... but she can be a right cow sometimes. my mum met a man, who thank god she didnt marry. she's still with him, and i still have to put up with him. he used to put my thumb in a really awkward possition that i cant really explain, and squeeze really hard, until i was almost in tears. my mum used to just watch, and one day finally told him to stop which he finally did. he still treats me like a piece of crap, and i just wish he would leave me and my mum alone.
my mum stopped drinking after her suicide attempt (on the one day a week that i was her responsibility so i had to see her like that) but i have found a few empty and full vodka bottles. so i have no idea if she's still drinking, because i only see her for a few hours one day a week.

I started cutting myself when i was 12, and it went on for nearly a year before my dad saw the cuts, when i finally came clean, and he took me to see a pshyciatrist. that didnt really help.
i kept hurting myself in ways that could be explained more easily, like i'd punch my arm, and i'd say someone blocked my punch hard at karate, which happens a lot. i left my elbow on radiators until my skin was throbbing.
i stopped after about 1 and a half years, because i couldn't risk my dad finding out, i didnt want to hurt him like that. i thought I went 2 years without SHing, but I was always doing tiny things that caused pain. They might not have always left a mark though.

in those 2 years me and my mum had a lot of big fights, where i ran away for a few hours, and ended up being dragged home by her when she found me at a bus stop waiting for a bus. that was my pathetic attempt to get away from it all. i didnt care where i was going, i just wanted to get away.
I said some really hurtful things to my mum, and i'm still not sure if she deserved them or not, after everything she'd done to me. she got me her and dad evicted from a flat when she spent all the mortgage money on alchohol when i was little (i think thats what happened anyway) and i still cant get the image of her laying on the bathroom floor unconcious out of my head. i still have dreams and flashbacks of those days, and i'm not sure if i can blame her for that. We've had so many fights since i stopped.

but eventually everything became too much. i live to please my dad, but that has seemed impossible, and the dreams were just too much, and i couldn't take it anymore, so i cut, i burnt and bruised all in one night.

I dont want to do it again, and i want to help other people that are trying to stop, or want to stop.

the cuts were never deep enough to cause any serious damage, which i've always been thankful for. its hard to explain the sensation self harm gave me. sometimes i wouldn't even realise i had done it until i looked down and saw the blood. i remember the moments when cutting was all i wanted to do, and i feel so ashamed. i'm ashamed of everything to do with my past.

This is from a post I made ages ago, but with a few edits to make it a little more relevant.

Not exactly everything that's happened, but it's basically the outline of it all. You don't even want to get me started on my step mum, step dad or my school >.<

[Harley Quinn]

Well I guess you could say I've got two stories about my bullying. I'll start with the first one..obviously.

Okay, so I was bullied all the way through primary school. Basically, I was bullied for literally anything, even if it wasn't my fault. I guess that's the way life works sometimes. Anyways, I was bullied for being a tomboy (girls that do what guys do but are still girls) basically, I played with boys, football everything, now people didn't like this, especially the girls. They saw me as a traitor, just because I wasn't like them. This went on all the through till I was about 10 year 5 or 6 I believe, I was demmed the outcast, nothing majorly bad happened in primary..just that I broke my arm (girls fault). I was picked on for my handwriting, yeah stupid i know but bullies are stupid nowadays.

As for the second one well; Secondary school, now this is where shit got worse you could say. I go to an all girls school, now while that seems all great and larry and whatnot. But it was actually the worse thing ever. I'll get a convo out that I had with Aaron (Kaius) and I'll let you read that I suppose, it'll be long and I doubt you'll read it but whatever. I'm bi/gay, and in an all girls school..it ain't a good thing. I went through my whole year 9 being bullied at hated, because being in a girls school they all thought I'd hit on them, when in reality.. I wasn't going to. Whenever we have religious arguements about sexuality, it's always "siobhan would know, let's ask her". Hell even my my surname gets used as a gay bash "Gay-Han". Well, year 7 I basically ignored it, except for this one girl, I liked her all the way through to the end of year 9. Year 7 was the "I'm not exactly sure, this can't be me stage" Year 8 was when it all kinda began. French class (ew.) >.< we we're having a debate because we had a supply, topic was homosexuality, I avoided the subject like.. A lot, until one girl asked me about it personally. I was like "well, I guess you could call me curious.." well that was a mistake, she told everyone, but being in year 8 no one believed it.

Then year 9 began; it was more obvious I liked the girl, people noticed, but I denied it. But I again, foolishly told a girl that I liked girls, it went around, rumors about me having sex with a girl, shit like that (I haven't). I'd get the "dyke" whispers in assembly, during football games and training, walking the halls, people talking about me, passing notes around. I found a note once in the summer ish. The note said "Siobhan the dyke, she should go die" I showed it to my HOY, she said she couldn't do anything about it because they didn't know who wrote it. It was this girl Whitney (the girl I told crush) shit went round that I "loved" her, which I didn't I was completly oblivious of it all. The girls form 9.2 hated me, she turned people against me, made people talk about me, I sat in form one day, crying my eyes out. Lydia, and Nora took my to the bathroom and cleaned me up, they were like "I know you're bi, what she's doing is wrong. I was in 9.4 (10.4 now) My form stuck with me. During that whole year I was taken out of lessons, asked what was wrong, I didn't say a word because in lesson I was about to kill myself, Andriana and Ciara stopped me. People never understood what it was like to be me at that moment in time. My teachers found out, the rumors got around that far, miss Nicolau, she knew from year 9 she's always supported me (bio teacher) Even now she checks up on me. It took me 2 years of fighting emotions off, to try and get people to shut up. Never worked, half the time I wish mum and dad knew, that way they'd know why I did things. But they'd not understand, sure my dad knows now, yeah, then he didn't understand, he blamed hormones.

This girl, she gave me a note, I don't know her name but on it said - nope he's cool about it I suppose. The note it said " I know what you're going through, it's hard and one day you'll be free from those people that caused you pain for they are haters, I'm just like you " she was in year 10 from what I know at the time. It stopped for awhile after I told my HOY again, then year 9 sports day. The girl (Lala) asked me if I liked her, I said yeah. She said she's known but she didn't want to ruin anything and that I needed to back off, and hide it all. Now that I have been through all that shit, I've realised, things happen for a reason and if they didn't..hell who would I be? Sure I wish I didn't get the gay bashing and shit but I've moved on and things are looking up.

From awhile ago, unedited.. kinda, i only paragraphed honest! That's just the bullying part i guess/it's still happening so.. o.O i mean there's a lot of shit with my parents that i kinda refuse to post :P and 'gayhan' is now one of my nicknames :P

oh and i'm gay not bi o.o - another long story

[Fiction]

My story isn't really that dramatic or even that bad.
I've always been a bit.. messed up. When I was a lot younger i suffered from phobias of almost everything. I refused to leave my house, cancelling things with friends and not going on residential school trips for the fear my little sister would get kidnapped, or run away. Totally irrational, I know, thank god i'm over it :P
I also used to spend a lot of time worrying about other things, just stupid things but it used to keep me awake all night, every night crying. I'd go through to my parents room all the time and obviously they got pretty annoyed... so I ended up coping with this on my own. Luckily I grew out of this.
I also got bullied when I was much younger. Two girls a few years older then me used to destroy all my toys and kick me etc. They where my child minder's children so I could never tell my child minder about what was happening.
My dad was diagnosed with Crohn's disease when I was pretty young, can't remember what age and he was always ill. He ended up in hospital for a very long time and having a very big operation.
A few years later he was rushed away in an ambulance, his heart was beating at over 200 beats per minute, they weren't sure if he would survive this. Luckily he did but was diagnosed with a heart problem. I was never told about this, I found out a few years later from a letter I found. I years later found out that my Grandad also had Parkinson's disease, another thing they kept from me.
When I was about 12 I began to feel really lonely, like I had no real friends. This feeling never really left me until pretty recently. The same year I caused my best friends attempted suicide. I still haven't and doubt i ever will forgive myself for that.
Just over a year ago I had a bf, things went horribly wrong. I won't go into it but I totally blame myself for what happened. I was a total bitch. It took a long long time to get over this. This is when the self harming started. At the same time many of my friends weren't talking to me, and i was recieving threats and emails off my ex bf's friend.
I totally cut off from my parents, I hardly talk to them now and they pretty much ignore me. I have lots of arguements with them and my dad makes harsh comments like that I "ruin everything". We're lucky to go a day without argueing in my house. They don't really notice things wrong about me, and don't seem to care much.
Although my life still isn't perfect it is definatley alot better than it has been at times :)

[closed]

My story isn't as close to that dramatic or sad, it is just me who messed up. s
Shortly, My whole life are alright. My parents are happy, married, we live in a good home (isreal isn't poor as it sounds. we don't have camels, only cars, and actually it is almost as any other country i've been to. the biggest difference is the language and culture. and btw 2% of the people livesin the dessert, the 98% lives on the hills or close to the sea. just so you know :)). After this is cleared lets start from the beggining:
I never had friends sice i was little. I was always different in the way i thought, and maybe because i was to a russian family i was different, but i didn't connect with other kids.I allways felt like my parents were harsher on me than any other parent (which is NOT TRUE), but it mademe feel misrable. I was laughed at alot, so i got a little violent habits. My studying was avarage in elementary school, and somehow (idk how, there were exams, and i'm surprised i passed them) i got to a higher-level-learning-class. So i passed with this class to middle school. there i was called "emo" and "freak" but i actually didn't care bout it. It was like a compliment to me that i'm not even close to those assholes. I was alsways sad, and i'm used to it. I'm used to being alone.
Now i'm in ninth grade, I have everything great aroudn me and only i messed up:
-I don't do anything really good. i like cooking, i like music, i study few musical instruments, but it's not like i' talented enough tobe one of those "wonder kids" who play paganini on violin when they are six.
-I don't study too good. I'm just avarage.
-I don't have any friends (not they i feel the need of any. I never had friends so i don't feel sad at the lack of them), so i'm not trying to be friendly, and not to talk bout a g\bf.

Shortly - I'm pathetic, i just suffer and live life and wish everyday that they weren't give nto me. There are\were people who can use it much better than me. It's even more pathetic that i don't feel sad about saying it. It is just a fact.
2 years ago at 7th grade i was alot on the net, and now i'm returning to it. People in real life has lotss of negative sides, but here i can get the illusion that people can be perfect, even though inside i know that everyone got a darker side, i ignore it. I'm just an avarage kid, an escapist. I have everything but feel homeless. It will end someday. It's my only hope.
But i still keep my happy mask on for my folks... :)

BTW Sorry for thisbeing sooo long :/

[steve1234]

I've grown up an only child with my parents seperated, and also with a physical disability which only my family know about (it basically means I can't really do any sporting activities without getting tired quickly). I am an incredibly lazy and un-ambitious person. Right now I am choosing universities to go to, but I doubt i'm going to get the grades. My motivation is a joke. Most of the time I sit in front on the computer or watch TV. I hate looking towards the future, and I guess one reason why is the fact that my physical disability will lead to me having to use a wheelchair by the time im 40 or 50.

I guess these are the reasons I don't feel 'normal'. I have always wished for a 'normal' life, with parents together with a brother or sister. I know this is ridiculous and you can't really define what 'normal' is.
I have also grown up with really bad social skills. I find it difficult to make friends, and I try to avoid any situation where i'm the centre of attention (i.e. doing a presentation in class, or talking to someone I don't know). I do have a good friend, but its taken me at least 5 years to become comfortable around him. I am in a small group of friends, and I do not feel comfortable around them, and I don't really feel part of the group. I also feel I will never have a girlfriend. I have hardly anything in common with the girls I know, and everytime I have a conversation with them its like i'm boring them to death. I think my bad social skills, with girls especially, has contributed to me becoming slightly obsessed with my fantasy world. I don't think its a problem yet, but I feel its very close to becoming a problem. I definatly think that without my ridiculous fantasy world and the music I listen to, I would be much closer to suicide. I have been depressed for the past couple of years, and It is getting worse. Every day I think of suicide, but I know I don't have the guts to do it, and I am scared about what happens after you die, and of course it will really hurt my family, and I just can't do that.

I hate the fact I live a quite good life compared to other people, yet I still find things to complain about.

[aussiecasper]

I'm a regular person i guess. i've never hated my life. my life is great. i have two happy parents(although a couple of drunks, i still love them) a great house im getting a great education. there is no shortage of great things in my life but, i hate myself. i don't really know why but i do im insecure and a deathly afraid that people will hate me even though i have never talked to them, and for that reason i have a very limited amount of friends and have never really ever gotten close to anybody. other that my fear of people i feel completely inferior. im not smart, im average, but to me im retarded. im untalented, im not good at sports, im out of shape, im ugly, and i feel like nobody will ever love because of these preconcived notions i have of my self. i have all of these things so deeply engrained into my mind that i feel that i can never change any of these things and now completely lack the will to do anything anymore. at first it was just sports and socilizing, but now its a struggle to get out of bed...or even to have fun anymore. im never happy and my life feels like a walking hell, but i again i never let that show so nobody knows that the person they see if screaming inside. to them im just a weird guy that they always pick or never give a second thought too.:(

basicaly it i guess. its a little deeper than that but frankly nobody cares so why write it:yawn:

[Syvelocin]

Full story time. Sure, why not?

Hate to break the chain but...

People ask what I've gone through, but I really think the question is "What haven't I gone through?" It's an indescribably feeling to relate to every single subforum in The Psych Ward.

Life begins at birth. My problems began, at conception if you're technical about it, or a couple days after my birth, when my blood father left my 26 at-the-time mother. She was a struggling hopeful actress and had recently been let off from her job, and was being supported by her older boyfriend, until he left. To tell you the truth, it was probably over when she got pregnant, but he stuck around just until I was born to leave her. I don't usually hold grudges, but I still hate his guts.

Without money to support me, I wasn't raised by my gorgeous, loving, maternal mother, but my alcoholic aunt. My mother still feels guilty, with reason, to have left me with her, unknowing of my aunt's alcoholism and violent tendencies. My aunt spent her nights getting wasted and her days in bed. Her husband at the time worked all day and came home, staying up late reading or playing poker with his mates, but paid little attention to me. I'm sure he noticed at some point, but he still ignored it.

The scariest night of my childhood was definitely the first time my aunt came into my room, speaking in her drunken slur and a bottle of liquor in her hand. They always say it's the child abuse that predisposed me to mental issues.

Years and years later, the rest of my mother's family start to notice. They see the bruises and the empty bottles in her room. It was my other aunt who acted first, and I lived with her for a bit before she contacted my mother and custody was granted back to her after another trial or two.

Living with my mum and her boyfriend (the man I now consider my father and is engaged to her) was the best time of my life, during the first few years until upper school (upper school consists of years 9-11 and sixth form). Around starting upper school, I started smoking, getting it not from peer pressure but from my mother. I picked up scissors and started self-harming when I was 13, soon moving on to razor blades about seven months later. By year 10, I ended up in a full depression spell around the time my aunt's boyfriend (same aunt who I had lived with, but she had divorced her husband and was dating another man) first touched me. While this continued, I grew to become anorexic to seem less appealing to guys and also started doing morphine on a regular basis.

The psych ward, for those who have never been hospitalized, is a pivotal moment in a life. Something about it changes you forever. No matter how average or bad your experience is, it seems like once you're locked up, you never get out, even if your doctor discharges you. Mentally, you're different. I've always thought mental hospitals only exist to screw you up even more. I've gotten very little help there.

I finally got off morphine at around the age of 15. Still depressed, I went to a psychiatrist (though I had been in therapy since the age of 9) and I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Then came Social Anxiety Disorder and OCD soon after. My final diagnosis was earlier this year, with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Top it off with the hallucinations, phobias, and paranoia, and I actually think it's more Schizotypal than anything else, though bipolar disorder I've always agreed with.

The situation with my aunt's new boyfriend escalated. It grew to more than just touching. The night he raped me was the worst night of my life as a teenager.

Things started taking a turn for the better when I met Jay. We became friends, started dating, and got engaged in 2009 when he proposed to me at a Nightwish concert he took me to. He's been a huge support system for me, even though he deals with his own set of problems, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, and self harm himself. But we both act like a crutch for the other.

My last psych ward visit was in April. The Saturday before I went, I really cut too deep. Off to the hospital I went in an ambulence. I was under a 72 hour suicide watch with the help of my crazy psychiatrist, and hospitalized for a week after that. They don't like to believe crazy girls with cuts on their arms when they say they're not suicidal but want to light their arm on fire, apparently, otherwise they would have hospitalized me straight away instead of the suicide watch.

I moved out of my parents' house and moved to America with Jay once I got out of high school. Since then, it's been pretty peaceful. While I'm still struggling, nothing too eventful has happened, though I'm starting to recover from anorexia.

I know, it's long. Sorry.

[Jennifer's Ashes]

Well this isn't anywhere near as relevant as previous people (I Feel for y'all) but it's not exactly great either.
All I want is to b a normal teenage girl, even though I know I'm never gonna hqve that luxury.
I've always hated my life. I've never truly been happy. When I was little I was home-schooled up until 5th grade. My mom taught us, and we would hang out with other homeschooped kids. That was ok i guess. When I was in 5th grade I went to public school, which wasn't actually too bad; although I was bullied by the cute straight-haired mean girls, who clashed horribly with me. Halfway through that year I got my hair cut just like any other girl, but the only problem was it was a buzzcut. Oh yes. I'm not kidding. It was so short you couldnt even run your fingers through it. I'd rather not go into the reasons why, but you can imagine the horriffic bullying that could go along with that. People were telling me i looked like a boy, a lesbian, a man, a potato, and the most ridiculous things. My parents pulled me out of school immediately. Of course. Then I had another year of homeschooling, until my dads job meant we had to move. And I'm not talkin two towns over, or possibly to another state. Ohhh no. We moved to England. I packed up my duffle bag, kissed my granny goodbye, and left. (note, if anyones British I'm really sorry for everything your about to hear. I love the people here, just not the fact that i had to become one of them.) we moved here because of what my dad does for a living, which sadly I cannot share with you all. We weren't even sure we were going under our own names, but we were lucky enough to be able to. My friend, whose dads in the same business, wasn't. We were immediately enrolled in the local fancy schmancy prep school, and I was going in to 7th grade. I would stay up all nit crying and come into school exhausted. It was a living hell. I had no friends at all. Not one person came over to my house that year, and vice versa. I hated ever second of it. I experienced physical bullying, and even though I weighed only 85 pounds girls were calling me fat. This did a number on my self esteem and I stopped eating properly. Every day i would have a pile of plain, wet lettuce for lunch. This weakened me even more than I all ready was. And afterwards, my delerium worsened. I have this disease syndrome thing where I faint, I shake, I have terrible nightmares every night, and I get horrific visions. I can't even describe it, but I really hated it. Still do.

Theres so much more, so much I can't even find the words for. Extreme grief, loneliness, etc. Etc. So here I sit, I want to go home, but I'm not sure where home is anywhere. They try to tell me uim privileged, but am I really? Someone save me, i think im slipping through my own fingers ever so slowly but surely...

[enjoying_my_insanity]

short version of my life:
im an only child and my parents are still together and im close to one of my cousins and someother family but my family didnt talk to my dads side for a long time and i only met those grandparents once which kinda hurts now cuz i wish i knew my grandma. we still dont talk to my one aunt or her kids, but shes a bitch so its ok. i was fairly normal as a kid i suppose but in middle school...well i drifted away kinda...people didnt like me at all so i didnt have friends and i was bullied a lot...i was called every name possible and thats my main reason for the begining of my depression...now im just depressed...idk why....now im just a crazy teenage girl with friends but i also cut and im bi but in the closet for the most part...like if you ask id prob admit it but otherwise...not tellin people yet...well thats really me...im just Sandy....

[Weeping]

Oh. my. god. xD This was long haha.. xD (wrote it in microsoft word first) xD nobody will even read it, but I'll post it anyways, sorry for the crappy english, and for taking up space in the thread.. :(


First off, I never had any friends, I was always just being there alone, even in kindergarden. When I began in first grade I was bullied all the time and everyone was just making fun of me all the time. Really, I didn’t care about it then, but it got stuck in some part of my head. I was bullied until I was in 6th grade (7 years), every single day, every time they had a chance they fucked up my mind.

My parents thought I had a lot of friends and that they where doing something else, like watching soccer or training, since I never hung out with anybody.

The abuse. At home. I don’t actually know when it started, I don’t remember a lot since I was a kid, just that stuff was crap and all that shit. But I know that when I was about 9 years old I wrote in my diary about it. I wanted to die. My parents abused me both psysical and mentally. It happened every day. Mostly late by the evenings. My brother kind of hit me and stuff to sometimes, mostly he bullied me though. My sister was nicer, but she was calling me stuff too some days. The only one who didn’t do shit to me was my oldest brother. When he still lived at home we never talked though. And he was like he didn’t knew a shit about the abuse. And I’ve never talked to him about how I feel anyways so whatever.

When I was in 6th grade I couldn’t sleep. I was awake almost the whole nights. I went to bed about 10pm and was awake, almost all the time crying, until like 5am before I fell asleep. Then I woke up by 6am again to fix everything, before I went of to school.

After 6th grade I began in a new school. I was ”supposed” to go to the same school as my whole class went to, but I chose to start from the beginning in a new school instead. In the end of 6th grade I started eating lesser and lesser food.

The first time I cut myself was actually in the beginning of 6th grade, nobody ever knew about it and they still don’t. I just did it once though, since I was scared.

In the end of 6th grade I went to a thing in Sweden called BUP (Child- and youth-psychiatry or smt , there are psychologists and stuff.. xD) twice, then I got them to think my life was great, lol.

I started doing it againg just before I began 7th grade. Nobody was meant to know about it that time eighter. I couldn’t do something else about it cause I just felt crap. And I didn’t knew better. So I cut. Some days I did, some days I didn’t. One day though, I had done new cuts on my left arm just the night before. I had a hoodie with kind of too big sleeves, I sat by a bench at school. And a girl in my class was like ”OMG ELVIRA HAVE YOU BEEN CUTTING YOURSELF?”. After school two other girls from my class told our mentor about it. So I talked to her the day after. The truth about what I had been through was exposed. She made me talk to the schools psychologist. Then she contacted the.. social welfare office..? so I had to talk with them about the abuse and shit.

After a while I started going to BUP again. My ”grades” in 7th grade was pretty good all over (in Sweden we get real grades from 8th grade). When the summer came I started cutting my legs instead, even if everybody knew about it I wanted them to think I didn’t do it anymore or something. When I was taking a bath and such I was always wearing bathing trunks even before I started cutting, so that wouldn’t be strange. I saw BUP once a week during the summer, and like everyone else, they thought I had stopped. The only one that’s aware of that I cut that summer to, is still our mentor.

At the beginning of 8th grade, my SH just got worse. It ended with me HAVING to cut when I woke up, when I was gonna go to school, when I came home, when I was gonna sleep, and so on, just to be ABLE to do a shit.

One of those days, almost a year ago, I cut to deep. You could see the flesh and everything in my arm. It was the ”cutting before school”-thing. I was panicked. I ran to the toilet and tried to stop the flow just a little, but I couldn’t. So I went off to school. It bled all day long. It ended up with me talking to our mentor, again. We went to a urgent meeting at BUP. The doctor there fixed an urgent place in a mental hospital. I went home and packed some stuff. By like 12-1 o’clock by night I was supposed to sew the cut. It still bled (I made it by 7.30am). It was too old, so they taped it instead. The fallowing days was covered by meetings and a big ”test” so they could tell what’s up with me. They diagnosed me with depression, and put me on Sertralin (anti-depressive medicine).

When I came home, after just a few days in the hospital, everything was pretty much the same. Though BUP didn’t let me go to school the whole days, so I went home just after lunch. I had to sleep in the same room as one of my parents. They let me sleep alone first the day before christmas. During this time they didn’t let me be alone at home, walk home from school by myself or any of that stuff. I still felt crap. I was still cutting, but not really as often, cause I couldn’t. I was cutting like my stomach, my breasts, under my panties, and so on, just places where nobody would see it. Sometimes I could make small cuts on my fingers, then if someone wondered, I could just say it was papercuts.

All this time I was stuck in eating disorders. I lost about 25lbs over a half – one year. I’ve never been diagnosed with ED, but I’ve seen my self like a ”ED-kid”. I was trying to starve myself all the time, if I ate anything at all I just went off to the toilet to stick my fingers down my throat. I hated myself so much. I was fat. I went out for walks with our dog every day when I came home, I tried to exercise as much as possible.

My grades in 8th grade was crap. I didn’t even get any grade in like 5 subjects, since those lessons always was after I had gone home.

The 2nd period of 8th grade, I started to really try to stop cutting and all that. I tried with all my, already small amount, of energy. I went to the lan at school. 21st of december, the last day of the lan, I fell in love. I fell right down on the ground, and he fell for me to. We went together. I had already been without cutting for about a week but without him, I wouldn’t have gone much longer. A few days later, I made myself puke for one last time. He helped me to get up from that big black hole I had been into for such a long time. We’re still together, and I still love him as much. He’s my savior. The love of my life. I wouldn’t live anymore if it wouldn’t be for him, and my mentor.
My grades still kind of sucked, even though they had started going up again.

Now my life is nice, I get along with my family, having lots of friends, the most wonderful boyfriend in the world, and so on. I actually know what happiness means nowadays. I have been "cured" from depression. I'm still on Sertralin though, just so I won't fall back. I've stopped meeting BUP, and I'm going to stop taking Sertralin to the spring.

Hugs, Elvira! :hug:

[1_21Guns]

Wasn't gonna do this, but I suddenly have nothing better to do, so why not.

My very first memory is of my 8th birthday, this is the first thing I can remember no matter how hard I try, anything before it is a mystery. This is the first I can recall of my fathers verbal/emotional abuse.
We were in the car, literally about 10 metres from home after being out the whole day, I was 8 years old, kinda tired and wanted to go and play with my presents etc, so I was somewhat gutted when my dad went "Shall we go up to mad Karen's?". Naturally I pulled my face, that was when I suddenly went flying to the right as my dad ragged the steering wheel that way to turn towards home. "it's not any special day, you can't always get what you fucking want!" broke the silence, I spent the next 2 minutes holding in tears, then when my mum opened the front door upon hearing my dads car door slam shut, my instinct was, ofcourse to run. So I sped up the stairs and sat in the window, hoping he'd leave me be.
I was very wrong, he came pounding up the stairs, ordered me out of the window and began hurling random abuse and screaming at me. I stood there in tears, he seemed unphased by this. It took my mother (eventually) shouting "it's her fucking birthday" for him to stop. He stormed off into the bathroom and broke something, as I broke down to the floor, and my mum? well she just walked away.

the next main thing I recall, is around Christmas time in 2007 (I think). There was a funeral, as usual my dad used this as an excuse to get wasted. It was okay... until we got to the pub. I spent most of the time playing pool in the other room away from my parents with some form of family friend. I didn't want to be in there, and when my mum told me it was time to go home, I was terrified.
It only went downhill from there, as we went out of the pub, my mum seemed quite sober, however my dad was the exact opposite. He kept falling into the road, I walked on the other side of some flowerbeds, not even on the pavement trying not to look.
When we eventually got home, my mum tried to send me to bed. It was quater past 8 for crying out loud. However in her drunken state, she thought it was 20 to 4 in the morning, (read the clock backwards). When I was reluctant and pointed out the fact it wasn't to her, my dad shouted "listen to your mam!".
I went up to my room, decided to make it look like i'd gone to bed until they passed out, however my mum came in and tried it again. I once again fought her, and insisted it wasn't. I then threatened to ring my grandma. I didn't know what to do, even my mum was shouting at me. I didn't even feel safe. I was told "don't you dare" several times, but just chose to ignore it when she left the room.
I knew the number off by heart and rang it, when my grandad answered, I just broke down on the phone and he couldn't understand me. He told me they'd be down there now.
They arrived and by then my dad was sat at his PC, attempting to use it and light a cigerette. My grandparents told them I was staying over at theres because I was all upset and they didn't know why. My dad then said to them "well now i'm upset because I don't know whats going on".
By this point I'd ran off crying upstairs afraid of them starting on me, my grandma came upstairs and made me get my things together.
"Nat you don't want to go do you, come back sweetheart" he said, his moodswings when he was drunk were worse than his sober ones.
I was then taken away to my grandparents, where when I'd remotely calmed down, they got out of me what happend. Then just when I thought I was safe, my mum came to collect me. She acted all nicey and fine infront of them, so they let me go. When I got home I was instantly told to go to bed.
I woke up the next morning hoping they'd forgotten, but I was very wrong.
I heard my door and turned from my computer to see my dad stood there looking extremely angry, next thing I knew he was in my face "you pull another stunt like that lady, and you've had it."

The years inbetween this were filled with constant digs at me, calling me stupid, numb and thick. My cries for help while I was being bullied were just ignored. "hit them then." they both said. I couldn't believe it, the size on me, and they were expecting me to hit people?
I went home with another bruise everyday, which after my cries for help were ignored, I learnt to lie about them to save the rant. Mum would ask where it came from (my legs were generally black and blue) "fell over" "stupid girl". Better than a 20 minute rant that I should be punching people.
However it became apparant I did have a violent streak after all. Over the 14 years I lived there, I slapped 2 of my best friends in the face for the most pathetic reasons ever, and also spent a year hitting a friend, just because I could. I didn't like being like that, I often scared myself as I was already taking my anger out on people. I lost a friend through my temper several times. Eventually, I managed to calm it down as much as I could, and managed to stay friends with someone for longer than two weeks.

A year or so after that (just after I turned 14) my mum faced me with one of the strangest questions, I had heard talk of it before, all be it drunken talk. "would you rather see your dad all the time like you do now, or less often" Cornered into the narrow rectangular room that was the top of the stairs, I knew exactly what both my head and my heart were screaming at me to say. "less often" "you sure?" "..yeah".
About a month later (had been planned in advance) my parents broke up.
I wasn't there when it happened, I wasn't allowed to be, but I was told what was said, dad went "what's going on?" "me and Nat are moving away for a while..." "thanks a lot Julie." and with that, he stormed in the now empty house.

It took me until the following summer (5-6 months) to realise how much that wasn't what I wanted. I felt horrible, confused. That was when I had a breakdown and began cutting. A close friend of mine had gone away on holiday, I couldn't talk to her for a week, and by 3 days of her being gone, my mind lost it and I used scissors to snip at my skin. Did very little damage, but I paniced and told a friend, I couldn't believe what i'd just done and I wanted it to go away. I was going on holiday to Greece in a few weeks, and an arm full of cuts wasn't going to be nice.
Sadly, after a couple of weeks, I cracked. There were some razors that were for shaving, but were very sharp and it was really easy to cut yourself meerly shaving nevermind on purpose, so when my mum told me to get rid of them as she'd got some better ones, I grabbed one of the unused ones and hid it.
About a week before my holiday, I had about 5 cuts on my arm. These ofcourse didn't heal, and I spent the entirity of my holiday arguing with myself over getting help. I had it decided I would, that was until I got home.
The summer just before I went on holiday, I also spent a lot of time overdosing on various things, and swigging vodka from the kitchen. Mum never noticed, ofcourse.
Although I broke down a lot that summer, and found out I was an accident, I felt safe away from my dad, as we lived a good 15 minutes away, far enough for me to feel bad about it. Also learning he was abused as a child made me feel pretty awful about shutting him out completely. By then however, it was already too late.

So, although I missed these out before, that's because I don't really have much of a memory of when the things happened, I just know roughly when. A couple of suicide attempts later, some reckless behaviour that nearly got me killed, here I am today.
Living 5 mintues away from him, still somewhat on the edge.
I probably missed a lot out, but looking at the bar at the side, this is already a million pages longer than everyone elses, so I shall shut up now before I clog the thread xD

[Punk_Kid]

Hm. Didn't think I would do this but what the hell.

I don't have any severe traumatic lives like other people do, mine is just a little weird I guess.

I was born in CT. My dad left a couple years after I was born. Technically, I'm a bastard child since they were unmarried. I've never had a bunch of friends but I'm still friends with a kid I've known since Kindergarten:D

I got my first gf in 7th grade but she broke up with me 3 weeks later. I was an asshole and I still am lol. That ruined me though and left me feeling defeated.

Then I moved to NY with my grandparents at 13. We live out in the backwoods on a dirt road lol. So when I was in CT a couple years ago at my friends house for a week to hang out with him, we let a friend of his sleep over.

We didn't know his friend was gay. So in the morning he tells me he felt down my pants in the middle of the night. I don't know if it's true but now I have a mild homophobia, I think.

This summer, my mom started talking about moving because she didn't want to live with her parents any longer(it's been 2 years). She would talk about it everyday and it always made me sad and angry. It was around this time that I started feeling depressed and angry at everything/one.

Then one day, I was talking to a friend on Facebook when she told me she used to cut. So naturally, me being the curious Idiot I am, I tried it. First, I tried pins. They didn't work so that I tried scissors. When that didn't work I took a razor head from the bathroom and got the blades out of it.

I figures out that if I cut, smoke, and drink then it all helps me feel better. I don't recommend it because the withdrawal effects can fuck you up bad!

I sat in my room crying after another talk we has and that's when I cut myself for the first time. It felt good but it leaves bad scars.

This year in school the girl I like told me that she likes me. So naturally, I was happier and quit cutting for like 3 months. Then I started getting mixed mesages like her shrugging me off or her just randomly texting me.

So I decided to try to forget about her and ignore her. It's hard as hell cuz we are in homeroom together and share a couple classes. So thats when I started cutting again after 3 months clean.

I'm hoping to go down to my friends house in a couple weeks. Hopefully he can help me out:D

I'm here if anyone wants to talk and I really do not recomend cutting, drinking or smoking as coping methods. I'm gonna check out the coping threads right now actually.

This might be skippy and choppy but oh well lol. Learn from my mistakes please:D

[HannahIsNotHere]

I tried a few times to tell my story but every time I put it into words it comes out in a jumble. Basically, my parents got divorced when I was 6, though I didn't find out until two years later. I recently found out it was because my mum cheated on him. I grew up with the step mother from hell, she was pretty violent and had some mental problem and her children were just as bad. And my real mum isn't much better, but I don't mind, she's never home anyway.

I got depression when I was 12 and still have it. The depression caused me to have insomnia also. Woo. People often misunderstand me because I don't really show emotion. Nobody knows that I'm sad. They all think I'm the happy one, and I like it like that.

[Stefanie]

About 7 months ago I was battling depression.almost every day
At school I would get bullied because of my height and weight and
At the same time was dealing with my dad.at school it got so bad the
I started threatening to kill my to the teachers,I started cutting myself
Stoped eating and sleeping and eventual started planning my death.
After I battled with depression and got my life together I managed to
Mess it up again.now I feel like Im going back to my old ways and my
Depression is coming back slowly and I'm sitting here day by day letting
It happen.

[Alexithymia]

My story is meh. It's kind of short, so I'm sorry for the short read -- but I'll try anyway.

My earliest memory is with my grandmother, and then a funeral. I was only three years old. I only have a single memory of her not at her funeral. It was a happy one, but... It's still only one. I never got to know her. And I have so many questions for myself when I acted to her, but apparently I can't answer them.

Then I jump a bit forward to a fight; it's a fight between my parents. They're fighting over whose weekend it was. I hated those days. They needed to get along. If not for themselves, then for me. I wasn't sure why they kept on fighting. I remember a part of the lawyer's officer too, but much less. (I discovered the cups of water that come in the multi-gallon jugs.)

Next is kind of sad and rather annoying for me. I was such an idiot. Apparently I'm terribly selfish too! Anyway, it was my mom, coming home, telling us that our cat had "cancer". At the time, I didn't really know what cancer was. I thought it was contagious, to be honest. So I didn't pay any attention to her. Within the week (I believe it was three days?), my mom had taken her to get put down. I never saw her.

And so then my -next- memory that I will always be able to remember is of cutting, but that's not part of my story. Nope. The next piece of my past that's affected me I've tried to bury. I don't want it there. It's just... bad.

My sister (younger) comes home and tells me that my (older) sister has left her kids at the house alone. At the time, they were two. See where the problem is? Yeah. Anyway, she was drunk driving too, but they couldn't prove that. Her now ex-husband has the kids most of the time, but he's completely abusive and they're have been many times where I don't believe the story of where one of the kids got their injury. Like bruises, for instance.

So then I come to a point of disarray. I find myself remembering little else, but I know there is more. There's a lot more. My brother I have faint memories of. As well as little other pieces of my past. But that's my story -- or what's left of it. The problems arising right now are more problems with my (older) sister. My family has been broken into pieces from her. I hate her. But I love her. I hate -this-.

EDIT: Sorry for adding to the bump; I didn't check the dates like a good VT user.

[WithoutFear]

lets see...
well i never knew my grandparents, aside from my nanna. from my mother's side (who is now sadly dying). pretty lame. they all died before i was born too, so seeing pictures of them, they just look like strangers.
when i was 4 my dad died of a heart attack, and i remember feeling out of place for a long time afterwards as everyonr else would talk about their dads, that thier going there this weekend, that they went to a movie with them ect. but his death never hit till i was about 7, when i did begin to understand death. my sister however took it very hard, having night terrors and need therepy. not to mention my mothers all ready unstable mental state being amplified. she was with him since she was 15 and they were together for 20 years. then she remarried to andre, who had kids already, who i love as if they were related to me, but for the last 10 or so years they fight soo often, he insults us often calling us c-words amoung other things. mum is not that much better, she is angry all the time, yells and screams at us all the time. she has attempted suicide multiple times, once when i was there.
my step dad has such high expectations of us, that no matter how hard we try, never seem to reach it. he'll tell us to for example spot mop the floor (mopping the floor with a tea towel and spray bottle) and we can spend hours on it but he will abuse us saying how we didnt do it right and then tell us to do it again.

there is story/vent. now i feel like a pity whore

[LittlePaperStars]

I started cutting myself about 4 months ago, and I was really depressed. Nothing was going right in my life. My soccer coach was really harsh and pressuring, my daily arguments with my mom were getting out of hand, and whatever I said was a big deal. I started noticing how my mom was expecting way too much out of me. I couldn't handle the pressure. Since I'm also a bisexual, my biggest worry was mom disowning me. I got really upset and depressed, and I suddenly didn't feel like doing anything at all. I just wanted to stay enclosed in my room. (At the time, I was thinking hard about what death would be like)

Since summer vacation, and everyone of my friends were gone, I had no one to talk to about this. One day, I got really sad and asked my mom if she'd still love me if I cut. She just said, "My daughter would never cut." A day later, I was in the car waiting for her, and I found a razor. Clean and unused. I stashed it in my purse, and she never notcied it was gone.

I was scared the first time I did it. But I didn't cut my wrist or anything. I cut my fingers; just the tips. Then I moved on to my thumb. I made 3 everyday for a week, and now I can't even count them anymore. When anyone asks me about it, I say my cat did it. (Because she still has nails and bites pretty hard.) But now, I'm used to it, and it doesn't bother me.

The people I've been confiding in have been telling me it's bad. I know it is, but it's also helping me cope with all the situations and bad feelings.

I've been trying really hard to keep my mind off of cutting, but no matter how hard I try, the thought is always at the back of my mind.
This is from my earlier posts in the Cutting and Self Harm Forum.

[Fiction]

I don't really have much of a story. My life hasn't really been particularly dramatic or anything like that. I don't really have any reason to be like I am, and some of the stuff I don't really want to share but i'll go for the rest xD

When I was younger I always thought there would never be anything wrong with me. Like I thought i'd be the perfect kid. I was really naive I guess. I just copy catted my parents beliefs, or at least what they taught me.

When I was about 12 everything seemed to change. The summer holiday between year 7 and 8 I remember feeling.. depressed I guess. I spent most of that summer alone in my room. Sitting on my windowsill listening to music. I remember not really liking myself. I felt like everyone else had more friends than me. That there must be something wrong with me. I'd been mildly bullied a few years earlier so I don't think that really helped.

When I went into year 8 I immediatly became close friends with a girl from my school. We became close but she had quite a few issues of her own. I ended up doing something to her that I don't think I will ever forgive myself fully for. I told people something I shouldn't have done. She ended up threatening to commit suicide. She actually got someone to tell me she was dead. Whether she overdosed or not I don't know, but at the time I took every word to be true. I thought i'd killed someone.

After that the next few years went past fairly quietly I guess. I wasn't really happy, I still had the feeling that I wasn't really wanted.

In the summer between year 9 and year 10 things went wrong again. I had my first proper boyfriend, which ended in complete disaster. I never liked him, not really. I just liked the idea of having a boyfriend and of course this was asking for trouble. I ended up leaving him for his best friend. No i'm not proud of that. His older sister then threatened me, and I began to get hate emails from people at his school. I remember being called a "cock blocking slag" and a "whore". The first one because I stopped him from doing something that I didn't want. I also had another guy from that school trying to get me to do things over webcam with him, to apparently "prove I was a slag". I managed to lose my three best friends that summer too, over petty and stupid things. Mine and my parents relationship hit rock bottom, and my mum ended up pinning me against a wall and threatening me. That was the first real time I was suicidal. I started scratching that summer. Not cuts, just scratches.

That October I overdosed. It was mild, but I had alcohol with it and I ended up ill. That January I started burning myself, and by April it had turned into cutting.

I had a new boyfriend at this point. My ex's best friend. Things didn't exactly go well with him either, but i'd rather not go into it. In August last year I developed an eating disorder. It happened pretty much over night. I just decided one day i'd lose weight, and by October i'd lost a stone.

In February this year I overdosed and ended up in hospital. My parents found out about my cutting and how I was feeling. My overdose is probably the worst thing i've ever been through. While in hospital I ran away, due to an arugement with my parents. I ended up with the police after me and when I found out they'd been sent after me I can honestly say I have never felt more guilty in my life. I felt like a waste of space, wasting everyone's time, when I should have just finished myself off properly.

A few days later I broke up with my boyfriend of the time, and I can honestly what came afterwards is the best thing that has ever happened. I now have the most amazing boyfriend I could ever wish for, I hardly cut anymore and I have a future. To me it just shows that every cloud has a silver lining. If i hadn't been through all that (even though it is pretty much all my fault) I wouldn't be where I am today :)

[Kaius]

Somethings im not comfortable with putting here so I have no plan of putting them.

I've lost a lot of people in my life, the majority of them to death. Several close friends and my uncle who I regard as like a father to me. My uncle is the reason I'm so attached to wolves. When I was young he used to tell me a lot of stories about wolves, he loved them just as much as I do. Hell, the first stuffed toy I ever had was a wolf from him. I guess it allows me to still feel close to him through somethings.

I lost the first person in 2006, I wasn't sure how to cope with it to be honest. I'm not sure what 14 year old would understand how to cope with death at that age. Things went from bad to worse when I lost my best friend, Brian. He was killed in a hit and run and died a few hours later with myself and his family by his side.

I first started self harming towards the start of 2007 after a suicide attempt caused by I guess was bullying at school. Some things that happened I'm not comfortable with putting here, but it affected me in more ways than I could ever explain. It dramatically altered how I saw myself physically. I began to notice I wanted to die every time I looked in a mirror, of the family photos in our hall way. I couldn't stand the sight of myself. After a while It got worse, a lot worse. The looks issue and the bullying at school. I cut my wrists in the shower because at first that was the only way I knew that would or could kill me. I knew nothing of suicide at the time and I thought it was a very uncommon and inhuman like thing to do. But the way I saw myself.. I didn't feel human, I didn't feel like I deserved the time of day.. So I did it. Obviously, I didn't succeed. When I got home from the hospital I realized I was craving the same pain I got out of the cuts I made, I soon realized I didn't have to slit my wrists to get the release I craved. For the next 5-6 months that was what I was living for. Not people, not the future. The release I knew that would come at the end of every day, in the locker rooms at school, anywhere I could.

During those months I endured more serious bullying which ended up being hospitalised after being attacked, I lost several more people and the build up ended up in me trying to commit suicide again. This time it was a lot more serious. I planned it this time, I waited for a day I knew everyone would be out. I stored every tablet I was given, made a note of every box of tablets and bottles of liquid medication in the house and where they were kept. I woke up that morning and went to school as usual, it was a normal day, well in my eyes anyway. The taunting, remarks and the bullying continued. I got the early bus home so I knew my family wouldn't be home took a bottle of vodka my parents had in their alcohol cabinet to my room and started to take the things I'd been storing one by one. I don't remember much else after that, I woke up about 4 or 5 days later after having my system drained of everything I'd ingested and luckily I had escaped large amounts of damage. This being my second attempt at suicide and obviously during the time I had been taken to hospital my cuts and scars had been noticed, i was sectioned for 31 days for my own safety. However I only stayed out 2 weeks of it. Those two weeks were something I don't think I ever want to relive. However soon after another overdose came, not as serious but it still didn't help my mental state nor my parents trust of my mental and physical safety and well being.
Soon summer came. Having become rather housebound I started to use the internet a lot more, I came across a forum and made some fairly good friends over the course of time I spent on there. One girl in particular I got very close to. We met in June and by August we were a couple. With her help I was able to cope through the loss of my friends and my uncle and I was able to stop cutting and before I knew it two years had passed and things couldn't be better. I left school with some great grades and It felt like things were finally looking up. In July 2009 I was finally diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after suffering from flashbacks over a very long period of time. This was put down to my friends death.

Soon September came, a new era and a fresh start, I noticed I began to drift from my girlfriend. After having two years of being very close with her and having her there through the hard times I found it hard to cope. She broke up with me at the end of September and a few weeks later I found out she had left me for another guy. I took this very badly. I wasn't only dealing with losing a big part of my life I was also dealing with the grief I had managed to keep at bay for so long. I turned to alcohol and cannabis to keep me sane from day to day. I turned up at college drunk, I was walking in front of cars and staying out all night. I was nothing but a shell of what I used to be. At the end of October 2009 I had one final confrontation with my now ex girlfriend and that was enough to push me well and truly over the edge. Once again I turned to suicide. This time I wasn't so lucky. The amount of overdoses had actually done more damage than we thought and It resulted in the valves of my heart becoming very worn out and diseased as they would say. I needed surgery to replace the valves. From then on I would need replacements every 10 years and It took me a long time to recover, this is when I found myself becoming a regular around VT. I met some great people, some of those people Im still in touch with, others I'm not. One of those people I formed a close friendship and soon a relationship with at the start of 2010. Sadly towards the end of 2010 that relationship broke down and we broke up. The stress the broke up caused was unimaginable. Again I turned to alcohol, it seemed I hadn't learnt my lesson and in turn it had turned to suicide. The friends I made began to drift away and soon I'd made a new group of friends, one including my now girlfriend.

I guess my life hasn't been as hard as some have endured but I do pride myself on knowing despite several attempts of escaping I got through it and I'm still here standing today. Its made me a stronger person and its taught me a lot of lessons I otherwise wouldn't have learnt if i hadn't gone through it all. Still, I wish none of it had happened but if i hadn't I wouldn't be who I am today. Currently I've been self harm free for 7 months and although I still have urges, and the break downs I'm still going strong. I'm still not over a lot of the past, I still have very bad flashbacks and I'm still struggling with how I look but im getting there. I Suppose I've also learnt not to depend on other people, it might be nice while they're around but we can't expect people to be around forever, the only one you can count on is yourself. But sometimes even thats a stretch.

[Love.Hate]

Well i dont really have much of a story to tell, well i dont know.. we shall see :P

I had a good childhood on the whole, everyone got on reasonably well. Except mum and dad who were fighting on a daily basis. They spilt up when i had just turned eight and its probably the thing that made me grow up the most. I then took on the 2nd parent role in the family and helped mum bring up my two younger sisters. Mum became depressed, very depressed and stopped eating.She was so thin :'( She was shaky all the time and couldnt put a sentence together, she didnt really make sense. She was so confused, so i took on the role of looking after her too.. being mum to mum. She eventually (after over a year) recovered from depression and we carried on with our lives normally i guess. Except my dad became controlling and tried to get us taken off her.. but i dont want to go into that. Its left me very insecure.

I was a happy child, didnt really go out much as i was very shy. Dont really know why, but i have always struggled to make friends. From year 4 (age 8) girls always picked on me, i dont know whether i wasnt girly enough for them. Or them just not liking me. I was always left out of games, i was told on a regular basis i wasnt good enough. So i guess this is still kind of stuck in my head. Being "picked on" continued all the way to high school. But by year 8 (age 12) i changed frendship groups after being on my own for a while. They were all lovely, i was finally happy.. but then this girl joined. She turned everyone against me, i didnt understand why. Or how you could be that horrible. Over the course of that year i was constantly called "lesbian" or being picked on for something or other. Either my freckles, my height (i was very short until about age 14) or just me in general. Year nine came and it got worse, worse and worse. Im not going too into detail cause it makes me cry. Basically a group of girls, one girl in particular made my life living hell. I would go home and cry every night, i hated the thought of having to go to school the next day. But i would, i would force myself, so people didnt think anything was wrong. I wanted a normal friendship. Is that too much to ask? really? Anyway i struggled through yet another year of being kicked, spat at, hit, called worthless. Left out and just being treated as a punch bag, not like a human being. Year ten is a blur, im trying to block it out if im honest. All i remember is mum waiting for me every night with a box of tissues, walking the dog and completely breaking down. I was so depressed, i really was. I couldnt see how it could get better. Everyone called me "happy/smiley fran" which i never understood. They made me put on this front of being okay when i wasnt. April came and i went to france for a week with the school, i really thought things would be different with one of the girls that i was once close too on the trip. But everyday she got texted instructions of what to do.. i wasnt spoken too, i was hit and it was truely horrible. Summer holidays finally came.. it got too much. It really did. I spent the summer alone, but im glad i did that it was better than being picked on. I ended up sending the group of girls an email just to say, im going to hang around with new people and move on. In which they told me they were glad i had gone, it was about time because no one wanted me anyway. They made me hate myself, and i really couldnt stand looking in the mirror or just any reflection. I would cry in mirrors, i just didnt think anything of myself.. i still dont really.

Start of year eleven i had nobody, i had self harm. Which i had been doing on off through the bullying. But in september 2010 i started and this time i couldnt stop, it filled the loneliness. Weeks and weeks until i finally plucked any courage up to make friends. I did in the end, but i was still getting the odd comment at the back of classes by bitches. I became more and more addicted to it though, but i had VT so i wasnt as alone as i felt. There were finally people that understood. Just before christmas i developed weird eating habits, a bad attitude towards food. I would purge whatever i ate, i just couldnt take anything. Still to this day i have bad habits towards food. On and off.. its either good, or bad. I have a very negative body image now.

I overdosed at one point, i think it was in march? but i cant remember i know it was around easter time as i had been purging so much, i was so weak. Tried again in june, just before my birthday as i was dreading it so much. The thought of having to be happy killed me.

Anyway fast forward to now, and i am still struggling massively with self harm. The longest i have been without it since september is 40 days. And that was a struggle, both my parents know about it.. i didnt tell them. I have been to councelling several times, the school councellor was the only one that did any good mind. I am going back at the end of this month, again. See if it helps this time. i have kind of got bored writing this if you havent already guessed. Turns out i do have a story, even if its rubbish. But i am so incredibly glad i found this place, its really the best thing that ever happened to me. I have met so many lovely people and people that understand and dont judge me. I have an amazing boyfriend. Im finally coming round to the realisation my life is worth living, and im going to live it.


- To anyone that read that. Wow your amazing for not being bored out of your brains :P

[CyanideGoodnight]

Hmm... I know I'm going to leave out too much... but I'll try...

My memorys stem back to preschool... I remember being bullied even back then, stupid little petty comments and I didn't have a true friend although I do kinda vaugly remember talking to one girl named Emma a lot... but then I think something happened and we weren't allowed to talk anymore because some other person hated me or something. God, I had highschool drama at the age of four.

The bullying got worse over the years... a lot of it from my supposed friends... whom I forgave immediently after any and all comments.I must have gone through at least 5 "best friends" in the corse of elementary school alone... all of which either dumped me or outcasted me, a few I went back to later or they went back to me. I don't know... from second grade to seventh grade is a huge massive blur of being hated, a few memorys pop out here and there but no particular year comes with them... All I remember is being outcasted a great deal because I was always "different" I remember wandering the playground alone not particularly caring or if I did care I just ignored it.

On August 3, 2006 my friend Mariah died in a hit and run. The guy got a lesser charge of leaving the scene of a crime, when it was origionally going to be vehicular manslaughter. I never really got over it, and go kinda crazy around that time of year. She was 10. I was 11. She was going to be 11 on December 20 of that year. She died in the hospital two weeks after the hit and run.

Seventh grade I was dropped entirely. I had absolutly no friends at all. My only real friend Amber was friends with a girl named Taylor and Taylor hated me and thought I was a bitch even though I never even said two words to her. As the year went by, I remember thinking of "commiting social suicide" and becomming one of those evil popular bitches who dress like skanks and only hurt others... I thought of the possibility of somehow joining them. But... before I did... I started talking to Mark a bit more. At the time I had already had like two other crushes on him at some point in my life or another... and his locker was right next to mine. We talked every day and helped eachother out with writing down homework... and talking about teachers, and all this other stuff. I remember that eventually I started having a crush on him again... and in time he and I were something like friends. I say something LIKE friends because me and him have and always had a love hate realationship. We looked like a married couple, always fighting and yelling and then calmly talking like nothing happened... i remember one girl said so and mark got all flustered and I was honestly really and truely happy. I remember most days we would just chill together in science class or whatever watching the class trout we had... and eventually I was led to believe that everything would be okay again, and in time it was, but it was still the worst year of my life so far, maybe even worse then last year... but I can't tell.

Then... in 8th grade everything was really good. I made a really good friend in Cassandra. In time.. we became sisters. We liked the same things, and even the same guys, which we made a pact to never let us get mad at eachother for... and everything was good. I still liked Mark and then I also liked this douche named Jimmie most that year... then i found out Mark liked this other chick and that Jimmie hated me with a passion, but me and cassandra remained friends. I finished my first short story that year on May 17, 2009. Before then I started cutting myself March 19, 2009, exactly 11 days before my 14th birthday. It was also the first time I technically attempted suicide, I tried to claw my wrists open and bleed to death... didn't work out so well and didn't break skin but still still self harmed... and later that year attempted suicide about 11 more times I believe... and cut lots. Too much pressure and hate that year, even though I had a friend then...

9th grade came and honestly that was the best year of my life so far. It was also the craziest year so far. Me and Cass even started a "list" of sorts, the "ways our school can try to be normal and fail miserably" based on personal experiences and stuff. I havn't added anything recently although I should.. but I'll get to why I havn't soon! :p Anyway we got that list to over the one hundreds and that year was just over all insane. However, the suicide attempts went into the 20's and maybe even the 30's, I know now it's over 33 times but I don't remember when half them were. I started to go to group therapy that summer and also got my first boyfriend. His name was Yemajha. The y is pronounced with a J. My aunt had about 100 cows when she found out because he's black and she's a racist pig even though she dated like 3 black dudes herself, but in time she got used to it. We broke up a month later, and then two days later got back together again and lasted another four months.He ultimatly broke up with me because I wouldn't fuck him or anything and... yea. This happened in December. Also, my cousin died in a car crash in that december at the age of like 13. The entire thing reminded me too much of Mariah's death... and it hit me hard and I remember cutting because of depression and sorrow and hate of the entire situation... that year I also became really good friends with a guy named Nick. I also had a crush on this other guy named Nick but it was a different nick then my friend, I'll just call the one I had a crush on Shishdoodlecakes or Shishel because that's what I called him then and that's what I'll call him now. Me and shishle had lots of sadistic convorsations and we became friends, he was "my emo lump" because he was ALWAYS tired and the convorsations we had together were considered "emo" to the other people around us. Together, we freaked out the biology teacher many times.

10th grade Yem broke up with me, Shishdoodlecakes moved, and I started dating Yem's friend Frank. Never date a guy who has kissed all your friends. It means he's a man whore. Frank was an emotionally abusive douche who only wanted my body and he kissed with his teeth. It was like he was trying to fit his entire mouth inside my mouth... not fun. I'd go into more about what he did to me, but I don't want to right now. I also became friends witha girl I used to hate Mina, but it turns out she's fucking awesome so yea. I only hated her because she was dating this guy I liked Tom but he's not important. This last year, so much shit happened to me... Cassandra went off and met some other girl and decided she was a better friend then me, my friend since fucking PRESCHOOL decided I was a bitch because I didn't thank her enough two years ago for something, I quit the musical because I didn't get a role and I was sick of being treated like shit there, I actually started standing up for myself, and I fell in love with my friend Christina. I think I always kinda somewhere knew I was bisexual, but just didn't really realize it until I realized I loved her. I never told her and she went all distant on me, but we're still really great friends, and even if I didn't have a boyfriend I'd be too afraid of fucking anything up to actually ask her out.

I'm slowly getting better from everything, from the bullying, from the hate, from the things they said... I slowly believed them after a while, you know? I still believe most of it, but between my friends, my boyfriend, and group therapy, I'm getting there. Recovery is a long, and slow, and painful road, but I know it's nessasary. My boyfriend helps out lots, he's great like that, I just hope things last... he's far away but obviously sheer hellbent determination works for me with not cutting, so I think it'll work for us too. Here's hoping next year isn't so fucking full of fucking drama... ugh.


Holy fuck that's longggg I'll probably shorten it later... eh, I dunno. If anyone actually read that all you're fucking amazing :p

[User Deleted]

My life isn't particularly interesting. I was born in a small town, went to a small preschool. Life was pretty easy back then. I was like any other whiny brat of my age. Except I didn't have chores, most everyone was nice to me. I had a cushy padded secluded life. I was far more naive back then than I am now, and I still complained about the easy life I had.

Funny tidbit I had a friend, we pretended we were spies, and being such good friends and my not knowing what a crush really was I always said I liked her and crushed on her ect.

I guess this kept on until kindergarten. See my mom worked at a preschool so she was there with me. Now I was alone, I guess these first few years of real life were the hardest. I thought most of the kids were really mean, and some were. But not many. I was really different and so I was an outcast back then. I drew these silly castles and drew a line across it and around like it was a video game when I got bored (on free time of course) and that's why most kids didn't like me as I remember it.

I had about two or three friends and this carried on until third grade.

We moved, yep, new school now. I knew few people, and since the popular ones moved too, I was even lower on the social chain. Nobody knew me, and most didn't want to. Not to mention I was still odd, and still am to the day. So I met a bunch of new friends since most of my friends moved, and we were in a little group. I still know most of them but I only saw so many of them at recess, we were in different grades. So I pretty much always hung out with them. And got bullied by the same few people.

Middle school was the turning point. People began maturing. I was still friends with the same people, but acquainted with many more. Slowly easing into eighth grade the people I knew all those years matured. The new kids don't like me though. I guess people just got used to me. I am still odd and I guess that's what people like about me when they do like me. I a just myself. A geeky nerd. A happy geeky nerd. P.S. More people joined our little group during this time, so we are really not a clique, just the outcasts, geeks, and nerd united.

Now I forgot one big thing, I was always emotionally... boosted. I got sad and happy easy, and cried too. Oh yeah, that was another reason people didn't like me. Now even when I wasn't sad sometimes I would cry. I have it more under control now. This year I am gong to ninth grade (tomorrow actually) I guess it is time to see my old friends again and meet some new ones eh?

Really not much, just a basic life. Average even, but I was just myself.

[derkderpderp]

For as long as I can remember I've been beaten, abused and generally treated like shit by my parents and family.
It all started when I was born, which coincided with the death of my grandfather, I was born with darker skin than the rest of my family, so my parents took it to mean I was some sort of devil child, that I was the cause of my grandfathers death.
I ended up breaking and permanently dislocating my ribs when i was only 6 months old.

As I was growing up I was often used as a scapegoat by my older siblings, my parents never gave me a chance and I was always beaten until they were happy I had 'learnt my lesson'. My parents also ended up getting various holy people to come to our house and try to make me 'clean' by praying for me, but apparently it never worked.

When I was 3, I was sexually abused by my father, I didnt understand what was happening, I didnt see it as bad as it is until I was around 5, when I would hear stories on the news my parents would so often watch, and through the music my older brother listened to. It happened again when I was 12, and then again when I was 15.

I've been beaten all my life, often to a bloody pulp. I've had bouts of anorexia, the worst which occurred a few years ago, where i lost 6st, about 40kg in about 3 months, and I've been diagnosed as anorexic all over again just yesterday.


I've missed a fair amount of detail out, but all in all: my parents have beaten me, often egging my siblings to join in, i've been bullied at school and on the streets because i dress differently and because i just am different, ive been abused by the man who calls himself my father, and im anorexic all over again. Most of the above roots from my parents, just fantastic right? ach

[Charleigh]

I honestly can't be fucked or even be arsed to go through eveything, I don't talk about my past much. But for the first time, I'm going to open up about somethings that nobody knows.

My first memory is when I was 5, and it was school time. We had unisex toilets so boys and girls could go in, from age 5 to 6 I got sexually abused in the toilets usually at breaktime or lunch. I got bullied, and when the sexual abuse stopped I became he suit face of the school, the girl everyones parents told their brats to keep away from haha :)

To age 6-7 mums depression was fucked up bad. I'd wake up in the morning to a cared to get me ready for school and take me, to go home to being ignored. If I came in with a tiny bit of dirt on me, mum used to have a bitch fit and start grabbing me up and slapping my ass and dancin round the house like fucking cool in the gang.



At the age of 8 I overdosed and went and told mum and got rushed to hospital by mum and her "bitch on the loose" driving lol. I started hurting myself at that age, only by biting my fingernails until they bled and their wasn't much to bite, and other personal shit

9-10 I kind of came off the rails. I started being a little cunt, beatin the fuck out my brother and gettin the whole chase up the stairs and being dragged down my the neck and launched at the front door until mum remembered I was there.

11-12 I started badly self harming. Went into a psych ward. Got sexually abused. Mum started up her whole shut again. Suicide attempt happened but didn't work. Got in quite a few fights and awnings from police. Eating disorder came.

13-14, ex boyfriend hung himself 2 months ago, last words I said to him was who gives a fuck you wil get over it, week later he hangs himself because I didn't listen. Good family friend dies. Got fucked around by boyfriends. Started drinking and smoking weed but luckily enough goose aka ronnie aka dad got me through alot of rough patches and has taught me true respect and what is really like to have someone to love as family. Umm, went into foster care, currently lookin for a job as a tattooist, but the dude that hit me up said I can only become a tattoo designer because of my age. Mum brought me a pregnancy test. I've almost overcome my eating disorder. Got expelled from school so I got into a place part time that's a behavioural place or some shit. Ok CBC to type no more.

So that's basically a bare outline of my past, that nobody knows exept for ronnie. I know my dream in life, and that's to get the fuck away from London as far as I can, make a fresh start and become a tattooist and get the fuck on with life.

[rockrooster11]

Since I can remember, my parents have fought really bad, I mean they could shout the house down over 24 hours. This would leave me and my brothers so scared. It stopped for about a year at the age of around 6 for some reason, I don't know what it was.

But then it started again, and recently(16 years old) has been getting worse, my dad even threatened to hit my mum while we were on holiday. He'd had a drink tbh but yeah.

I used to be a bad kid, my grandmother used to call me 'the bad one.' I'd do nothing around the house and hit my brother and stuff, probably rebelling since three of my grandparents died within 3 years. But, I've changed and I'm now trying to be a real good person, but my dad still thinks i'm the same and makes me feel like i'm a piece of shit, shouts at me for nothing and stuff.

Then around 12 I started to realise I was attracted to someone of the same gender, and stuff happened there. I trusted a 'friend' to talk to but she told a few people and they started saying things and doing things to me. So I started cutting myself at 12, and basically didn't think I was worth it.

I also started to gain weight around 12. Before, I'd always been stick thin, but then with school and everyone finding out about me, stress started building, and by this time, i'd quit dance to concentrate on school. So I started comfort eating. I now weigh over 160 pounds at 5'2. I'm trying to diet, but I really don't have any willpower. However, I have now started doing martial arts and bought an exercise bike, so hopefully i'll lose a bit of weight.

By 14, the cuts started getting deeper. I'd lost pretty much all my friends, or in other words, found out they never truly cared about me. This went on for about a year and a half, when the one friend remaining introduced me to a few people at school. I now have a select group of friends, and I'm a lot happier than I was.

But I still struggled with my weight, I was unhappy and have been having suicidal thoughts for 3 years. I don't dare tell anyone because of what happened the last time, and basically, I put a mask on to show i'm happy all the time.

So now, I can't trust anyone, so I can't tell anyone, and I hate sympathy and attention, so I wouldn't anyway. I repress my thoughts feelings emotions etc, which probably isn't great and this is the first time I've told anyone this. I've never had a boyfriend or girlfriend or a first kiss or anything, which I am fine by at the moment. It means I won't have to suffer the heartbreak other people do.

I haven't cut myself now in about 2 months, which is great for me. But I still am so depressed and suicidal and can feel that I will crack soon. My mum started noticing some scars on my body, since we went on holiday and the bathroom didn't have a lock on, so she saw my stomach and then a couple of years ago, after I first started, she saw my wrist, but as far as I know,hasn't put two and two together. She'd react very badly if she figured it out, I know.

So yeah that's part of my story. I don't know if this interests anyone, since this is the first time I've been on here in a while. But now you know me. It probably sounds a bit stupid compared to other people. But yeah, bye.

[Axill11]

Losing a close friend sucks. That's all I gotta say.