My story

Part 1

I'm gonna start this story the summer before I went into 6th grade. In my school district that's when middle school starts. My dad got cancer and died within months of being diagnosed. I was told everything as we found out and the doctors were really hopeful at first but my dad got bad really fast. 

Around a week before my dad died we were told that he wasn't going to make it by the doctors. I felt like my life was ending, I regretted every time I had ever passed on hanging out with him. He was no longer talking and he was paralyzed from the waist down. I went in to see him and he gave me a really big hug from his hospital bed and I was trying not to cry in front of everybody. Because nobody else was crying at that time except for my mom and my brother. I wanted to be strong for them. My uncles were there too, from my dad's side of the family. My grandma and grandpa weren't there because they were in Canada and my grandma was fighting cancer as well. "I love you" I cried into my dad's arms as he hugged me. And i think that the last words he ever spoke were to me because he said "I love you too chickadee" I started crying because I wasn't expecting him to say anything back after a few minutes my mom got me to leave my dads side and I got myself together and left "bye dad" I called and that was the last time I saw home before he died.

My grandma, on my mom's side had been taking care of me and my little brother so that my mom could spend time with my dad in the hospital before he passed away. My mom came home for the first time in days and the moment I saw her I knew that he had died. Not because she looked sad or tired or anything but because she was home. We all went into my room because it's the biggest and my mom and brother cried for a while. I brought my dog, Cubby, up to comfort me. I wanted to explain to her that my dad wasn't coming home again. 

A few weeks before my dad's funeral, in September of 2022,I started self harm. My friend who was a few years older than me had made jokes about self harm in the past, mostly because she struggled with it, which I know now. I wanted to try it, I don't know why but i thought that maybe it would make me feel better, so I grabbed a clean knife from the kitchen  and used it to cut my right forearm, I'm left-handed. I didn't do it again until my friend the older one, dropped me in October, I started cutting again but this time I didn't just use a kitchen knife, I would unscrew a pencil sharpener or use my dads old box cutter. My cuts got progressively deeper throughout 6th grade. It hurt to move my arm. I would try to get clean and then in a few weeks relapse. 

At the end of 6th grade one person knew, my best friend. and I'm sure others had their suspicions, there was this one girl that would consistently ask my why I always wore hoodies or why I only rolled up one sleeve and I would just say I get cold easily or that's just the way I like it. 

My dad's death never really felt real to me it felt like he was just gone temporarily forever you know. I just don't think my brain was ready to face the reality yet because when I do I will literally break down I swear. 

One day I was in math and the school counselor came to get me. I already knew what was happening somebody must've told her that I was cutting myself. "You're not in trouble" she said to me on the way there. She must've sensed my nervousness. When we got to her office she said that somebody told her that she thought I was cutting myself. My first thought was my best friend but then I realized it probably wasn't her, the one kid that asked me way too many questions. God I wanted to kill her. I just shook my head stupidly and denied the accusation. The social worker asked me to roll my sleeves up and so I rolled up my left arm sleeve as an attempt to avoid getting caught. Unfortunately a few nights before, I had cut my left arm for some reason. I knew the counselor noticed and she asked me about them to entertain the idea that maybe I didn't cut myself . They were three long lines that could basically pass as cat scratches. I said and I quote "well maybe a little"( WHAT THE FUCK! I literally make myself want to die sometimes when I look back on stupid shit like this that I've said) she had to tell my mom and shut so I was having a fucking panic attack in my brain but I didn't want to be there for that so I returned back to class and I think that was the only time I was ever relieved to be back in that class. Luckily she didn't see my main arm I don't even know what would have happened. 

When I was at theatre after school that day I realized that my mom would want to talk to me about it but I didn't want to do that I didn't want  her  to know I didn't care if the whole world knew as long as she didn't. I asked to go to my friends house after school. Obviously she didn't let me. I said I had to use the bathroom and I started to have a panic attack. I was sitting on the floor shaking, crying, and gasping for air.

When I did finally have to go home my mom wanted to talk to me. I just yelled at her and wanted her to go away. She allowed me to go on a walk to "cool off" I thought about just killing myself then so I wouldn't have to talk to her about it. Unfortunately, i didn't, after about an hour my mom called me and made me come home. She sounded upset. I walked in with an attitude big enough to break the house. I plopped myself down on a chair in the den so that my mom couldn't get close to me . She sat down on the couch facing me. We talked and she asked to see so I showed her and I thought I had gotten away with the same trick. She asked if that was it I said yes and she excused me and i scurried away quickly to my room to find that the whole thing had been cleaned and cleared. I checked behind my bookshelf and found that she had not found my emotional support peanut butter. 

I flung myself onto my recently made bed with a plop. I didn't cry, I wasn't angry or sad or anything I just felt. I don't remember when I fell asleep but I did. 

A few days later my mom found out about my worse arm because apparently she has common sense and knew that I would use my dominant hand to cut myself. But doesn't have enough common sense to realize her daughters obviously gonna be sad if her dad dies literally less than a year ago. 

Anyway started therapy it sucks halfway through the summer I relapsed and then my friends found out and told my mom and my friend even recorded me crying after she said she was going to do that. I threw a giant fit and told them to get out of my house.i alter apologized. Also forgot to mention that one of those friends was the one that dropped me earlier we made up and are super close now. 

7th grade started halfway threw 2nd trimester I relapsed and got clean by myself like 3 times then got caught so yeah.  And caught up to right now I'm buying a vape from somebody, I am currently cutting my upper arm, and seriously contemplating suicide but I can't get good grades if I'm dead, but it doesn't really matter because all of my friends hate me especially Alex and ___ is always annoyed with me and calls me stupid on a regular basis ____ is only friends with me because her friends are but I low key really annoy her too and _____ hates me but doesn't know how to drop me because we've been friends for so long. The only person that actually likes me is _______ and some of her friends from her old school but they haven't even met me in person yet but yeah. Also me and _______ like eachother but we're not getting anywhere because every time we try to talk about it it gets awkward.

Might name drop might not I don't know let me know if I should

1538 words