When I was about 7 years old my parents got divorced, but as far back as I can remember they were always fighting and arguing. I started to self-harm when I was 12. I thought that there was no one out there who cared, knew what I was going through, even knew I was alive.
I was going through a hard break up, and instead of cutting like I normally would I decided to take a notebook and write in it. Now instead of cutting, I grab my notebook, and I write in it. One day I realized:
- I have friends who care about me.
- My mom and dad care about me.
- My grandparent’s care about me.
I had a blade in my pocket one day, and a friend of mine emailed the school counselor, I got kind of upset at her, but then later that day, when I was home, I realized, that if she would not have emailed the school counselor, I would of cut myself really badly.
People out there care about you, even though you may not realize it.
I wrote this in one of my notebooks today, “Blades help me release the monster on the inside, they can cut deep, or they can just skim the skin, they have always been there through all the rough times, but what I didn’t realize is that so were my friends. I have friends that have always been there. They didn’t have to make a single scar on my body, like a blade, they helped let the monster out through my words, not my cuts. Cuts make scars, then people ask ‘How did you get those?’ then you have to make up some lie, so you do not get in trouble.”