Essays, Etc.

Being, Etc. (Trigger Warning)

Hey guys, WooWoo here. A very close friend of mine and amazing writer decided to give us this essay, but wished to remain anonymous. I will honor their request, but would like to thank them for being brave enough to let me post this. It took a lot of courage.

Eight suicide attempts so far.

I say 'so far' because I can't promise that I won't do it again.

I'm tempted too, lots and lots. I'll be going about my day and absentmindedly think of ways to kill myself. I don't even realise I'm doing it. It's just like this:

What a nice day lalalala

The belt I'm wearing on my jeans could probably hold my weight and kill me if I hung it up somewhere.

I could find the key for Dad's gun cabinet. Bam.

How many pills do I need to take for it all to be over?

...You get the point.

There are reasons why I'm like this and because I'm anonymous, I may as well be straight up and say them.

I've been depressed as long as I can remember. I only got diagnosed in 2011 though, when my close friend lost her father to cancer.

I started cutting during the summer she lost her dad. I was extremely depressed and I felt like I should have been the one who died, not him.

I hated cutting, mind you. I only did it because I didn't know how to tell my parents that I was extremely depressed and on the verge of a breakdown.

I felt bad that I felt so unhappy because I should have been grateful that I had both of my parents whereas my friend now only had her mother.

My parents found out I was cutting after three months and my mom was brilliant. She sat me down and told me how much she loved me and everything else you want and need to hear when you are extremely depressed.

She then arranged for me to start seeing a school counsellor. I later stopped seeing that counsellor though, as I didn't like her and got a very very good one soon after.

My family and friends were extremely supportive and although many of my friends were unsure of what to do or say, but they tried their best and for me; a girl who was hurting so much; that was more than enough.

I only ever cut once again after that. I wasn't even thinking and it was a dumb thing to do, I know. 

I have never ever had the urge to cut again since and I am so glad to say that my wrists are free from scars and cuts. I don't class myself as a self harmer or somebody in recovery. I see myself as somebody who was experimenting with ways to stop hurting. I've tried a lot of things to dull the pain and most of them I wish I hadn't done. Drinking. Cutting. Skipping school. Boys.

I'm trying not to live with regrets though because I have learnt from those experiences and I know now what works for me and what doesn't.

Anyway, back to my reasons why I am like this.

I was sexually abused for two years (from the age of 8 to 10)  by somebody my sister was very close to. It was another girl, yes. And they were the same age as me. It still is sexual abuse, no matter what anybody says. The correct term for it is child on child sex abuse. And unfortunately it is becoming even more common these days...

I didn't tell anybody until December 2012. I told my boyfriend and it felt so good to finally have somebody know. I felt a massive sense of relief and I felt so much lighter.

My parents found out in June 2013, approximetly, and they were very shocked but extremely supportive. My counsellor and caseworker had known since the start of the year but they hadn't been allowed to tell my parents due to privacy agreements. 

It felt good that it was finally out in the open and I am so grateful I spoke up about it because it had been haunting and taunting me for years and I believe it was one of the things that had made my depression worse.

Also, growing up for me wasn't easy. I'm not going to go into detail about my family life but my father was abusive towards my mother and I am so proud of her for leaving him when I was one. She spent years keeping me sheltered from him and I am so thankful for that. If there's one person I hate so much, it's him. It makes me so angry knowing what he did to my mother and I honestly wish I could see him now and spit in his face. The bastard.

Hopefully he rots in hell and rats shit in his mouth.

Anyway, there are various other things that contribute to my depression and the way I am such as bullying, self esteem issues, my boyfriend of almost a year getting his stepmom to dump me for him through text, etc., but I don't have the time or the guts to go into detail about those things because they are very complex and they could reveal who I am.

Anyway, so yeah. Eight suicide attempts in under a year. That's roughly one every six weeks, I think? Actually wait! I don't think it is. I'm terrible at math so don't trust anything I say to do with numbers or any of that confusing shit.

I'm not going to say how I tried to kill myself but I failed all of those eight times and I realise now that there is help out there. I have an amazing caseworker and a fabulous counsellor, along with a crazy yet caring family and a bunch of friends.

It's been a hard journey for me so far and it isn't over yet but I'm still going to keep fighting. I get depressed everyday and most days, I don't even want to get out of bed. I completely failed school this year because of my depression and I realise I have to get my act together or I'm going to fail at everything I do in life. I'm not saying all of this to get sympathy or to make people want to get help for themselves. Those things are nice and all but I'm saying this because it's about time I was honest with myself.

I'm a 16 year old girl who has major clinical depression and undiagnosed Borderline Personality Disorder.

I love reading and writing poetry.

I love myself a bit more than I did a year or so again.

The road I am may be rocky and bumpy as hell but it is possible and I am going to prove it.

I don't want to be another teenage statistic to suicide.

I want to get married one day and have kids.

A house with a white picket fence.

I want a future for myself and although most of the time, I don't see it; I know it is out there and I am going to go for it with everything I have got.

I only get once chance at life and sure, my life sucks a lot of the time, but that doesn't mean I'm going to reach for a rope and end it all.

I want to see what life has planned for me, because after all of the struggles and hurt I have endured; I'm hoping it's something pretty fucking amazing.

So yeah, that's all I really feel like sharing today and I'm hoping that this has helped at least one person. 

Even if it's some random in India or a nun in England, I don't care. I just hope that this has helped somebody because writing this all out has certainly helped me to clear my head and just be.

Just be.