I wish I could tell you I was abused and my parents were split simply for the sake of explaining myself. I know its terrible that I feel that way, but then maybe someone would feel like they could say something to help me. Others have it worse its as simple as that but that guilt is another thing that attributes to my depression.
I am Christina born on October 12, 1996. I have both my parents and a strongly religious and a supportive family. But I feel like I’m never good enough for their standards. They expect the moon and the sun, but I can’t give them that. I constantly fail. I aim for the top but my best is never good enough. I have never been important enough in someones life. I’m always second place. You know that quote “You only know me when you need me”? Well frankly that’s my life. They say they will be there for you but then when you’re screaming everyone of them has gone deaf. Simple. Sad. True.
I’ll start from as far back as I remember. The very basics. From Kindergarten to 2nd grade I went to a private school and 3rd up I have been in public school. In 2000 my brother was born. My Uncle died when I was in 5th grade, but he was always my favorite. I miss him like crazy everyday and to this day his death creates a gap in between my family. Later in my 5th grade year my grandpa died.
When I was very young I would always be very sad. I never have liked myself and quite frankly the self hatred has only seemed to increase. I hate the way the fat clings on to my body. I hate everything I do, I hate my voice, I hate my hair, I hate my smile, I hate my face. I hate everything about me. It’s simple. I wish there was more of a concrete reason but I hate everything about me. There is simply nothing to love. I think I was 5 when I first tried to die, I didn’t know what suicide was back then. But I have attempted more times then you can count. When I tried to overdose I passed out and woke up to throw it up. Cutting I just passed out. Strangling, well its physically impossible to do it with your own hands. Now I know that.
A funny thing happened though in 6th when I started to self harm. When I did no matter which way I did it, cutting, purging, burning etc it made me feel better if only for a minute. By midway 7th grade years all my money was going to scar creams and I was cutting and purging daily. No one would have known. I was smarter then to let ANYONE know.
That summer I went to an overnight camp. It was with the church and I was the youngest signed up in the whole camp of 140+. During one of the night games while I was blindfolded I was felt up by a guy I never saw the face of. I was sexually assaulted, and the worst part… he was never caught. My self harm and self hatred got worse. I couldn’t eat or sleep. It was my fault. I was stupid for going. I have never gotten over it. No matter how hard I have tried. So I purged and cut more than once everyday.
My self harm lasted to 8th grade when I finally admitted to my parents they were to hard on my, I hated myself and I wanted to die. I was hospitalized a few months later. 2 weeks of missing school and guess who noticed. No one. I lied my way out of the hospital. I lied my way through the rest of 8th grade year, and I pretended I was fine. I think it sucked more that people believed it.
The beginning of 9th grade was a bit better, I still cut, I still purged but I stopped doing it daily it became my coping mechanism, and then December happened. My friend and her boyfriend had “mutually” broken up and him and I started a friends with benefits thing. No strings attached, and it was okay for a little while, but then administration caught us. Lord knows how, but the rumors started flying. I was sleeping with him I was a slut. All the sudden everyone of my friends stopped talking to me. I became desperate telling the truth to anyone that would believe me and some listened and some didn’t. I was miserable and alone.
Around March I met a guy who didn’t ever hear the rumors and we dated for a while. When he pushed me to far I broke up with him. A few days later he asked me to walk with him. He took me to a secluded area of the school pushed me against the wall so I couldn’t move at all. Stuck his tongue down my throat and felt me up. I was sexually assaulted again. My self harm just got worse. I started starving. I already hadn’t been sleeping. But it became daily. No one really cared. And I lost all my respect for myself. I don’t know how I lived through that summer. I went to tae kwon do a lot and I have come to the conclusion it saved my life.
My 10th grade year had been a lot better. The rumors had been forgotten, I met new people, I still cut and purge but it’s only a coping mechanism. I have found my way to act more secure and I can thank tae kwon do for that. But I hate myself every waking moment. I continue trying to get better, but I’m alone and I don’t know how.
I say this not to make you pity me but to make you understand. There is hope and I will be here for anyone who wants to talk.