Mental Health: My Personal Battle, Pt. 1
I wrote my first suicide note when I was in the 7th grade. I wrote a letter to each of my friends at the time detailing to them why I was taking my life. [Un]Fortunately, that suicide never materialized and those notes went unread. To this day, I don't know whatever happened to them and maybe it's best that I don't. It was around this time that I developed a love for writing. However, my writing was very dark. I would never want anyone then or now to read them. Those too are long gone but these feelings aren't.
I was fourteen years old when I started cutting myself. Already depressed and didn't know how to deal, I had found myself watching an episode of Degrassi when I discovered self harm. One of the characters, I believe it was Ellie, started cutting herself because she was in pain. Of course the learning experience from that episode was to NOT cut yourself and seek help. Well, I did the opposite.
When I first started, I was scared. I wasn't sure I was doing it right. But after a while, I got the hang of it and it became a very bad habit. But no one knew. It was my little secret...until it wasn't anymore. For whatever reason, I totally forgot that when cuts heal, they turn into visible scars and of course, I just had to wear a tank top. It was Summer 2004 when I was first approached about my cuts. This guy I was crushing on aka my (former) BFF's cousin took noticed of my arms. When asked, I told him it was my cat. He seemed to believe me or at the very least appeared to and left it alone. Once we started getting closer, he continued to question me and I couldn't deny it anymore. He was the first person to know.
My depression, suicidal thoughts, and cutting wrists lasted throughout my high school years. Only a handful of people by that time knew, if that. They were mainly boyfriends and really, really close friends. But even then, I kept it at a minimum except for with one boyfriend. Figuring that he was someone I could trust, I told him everything. He seemed to have been there for me until he just couldn't anymore. I recall one night him telling me to just do it as in cut myself. Wow, okay. Maybe he just wasn't in the mood to hear his girlfriend's depressing life and I don't blame him. But to actively tell a fifteen/sixteen year old to just do it definitely put me over the edge. After that moment, I stopped really mentioning it to him entirely and just dealt with my issues privately. I did have friends that did seem to care about my well being so thankfully, he wasn't the only source of fulfillment.
But once I started becoming a little bit more open, it actually came back to bite me in the ass. One night as I was on the phone with my one of my friends and browsing the internet, an IM from an unknown screen popped up. Curious to know who it was (and how in the world did they get my secret screen name), I clicked it and honestly I wished I hadn't. Apparently, when my bf and I broke up (temporarily), he did it to be with some chick he referred to as his best friend at his school. I knew of her and didn't think much of it but if you ever wonder why I'm uncomfortable with my bf (whoever it may be) having girl "friends," this is why. Anyway, bitter about him breaking up with only to get back with me, she decided she wanted to get back at him. And what better way than to do it than through his semi-depressive on & off girlfriend?
To make a long story short after making herself known to me and who she was, she sent me everything that was ever said to between them and who was in those conversations? Me. What was the topic? My suicide and depression. Apparently she wanted him to break up with me so they could be together and he claimed that he couldn't because "I'm crazy" and "I would kill myself" if I did. What in the entire fuck? Yes, I had deep emotional issues. Yes, I wanted to kill myself. But not over him! The conversation had happened months prior without my knowledge. I'm not sure when they "broke up" but she was holding on this info for a long time and I guess us getting back together was the straw that broke the camel's back.
I was livid. A private conversation about my mental state was made public. I couldn't even speak. I had to tell my friend I'd call her back because I was in a state of shock of what was going on. I was in a much better head space and we were in a good place so all of this blew my fucking high. I blew up his house phone at midnight because at that point I did not care. He explained to me that it wasn't true, blah blah. Like a sap, I fell for it on the phone but deep inside I knew ol' girl wasn't lying. That's why he hung up on me to curse her out and try to rectify the situation. From then on, I kept all my mental struggles to myself and suffered in silence.
To be continued...