jessica
Posts:
17
Registered:
7/23/10
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my untold story
Posted:
Jul 23, 2010 3:05 PM
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Well many on this website have addictions, had addictions, or knows someone who's gone through one. Many think addiction is with drugs or alcohol but my personal addiction is with life, just the simplicity of not wanting to be alive and by cutting it all away.
As a child growing up I didn't have a bad life at all. I went to catholic school and lived in a little town where everything seemed to be ok. My parents got a divorce when I was only 5 and looking back on those days were hard. I remember when I was only 4 years old my father beat up my mom and I watched as the police dragged him out of my house in nothing but his underwear. Things never were the same after that. I continued on my merry way of my childhood very isolated from others yet I somehow always became the center of attention. None of the girls in my grade liked me cause I liked hanging out and being like the boys. Also, none of the parents liked me or my mom because getting a divorce was still a newish thing and shunned upon back in the 90's, especially being a "catholic".
Everything was ok till the 6th grade. This one night will never leave my memory no matter how hard I try to forget it. I was laying on the couch at my father's apartment and him being a raging alcoholic came storming out and screaming at me right in my face saying, "you were a mistake! it was only 2 minutes and it wasn't even good enough!!" (referring to having sex with my mom, which at the time I still was convinced a bid bird planted a seed in a mommy's bellybutton and that's how the baby grew!) After hearing this I was devastated and could not believe what I just heard. I quickly called my mom and her boyfriend at the time (my step-dad now) came and got me and brought me home. I felt lost and unwanted and I wanted to die. This was my first attempt at suicide. I tried to cut my wrists but I was too afraid so I didn't go very deep, but I kept trying again and again till it became a habit of cutting the pain away. Then some of my classmates noticed and told the school nurse on me and I had to go to counseling and I hated every second of it!
I didn't see my father for half a year. Between then my mom got married to George which was very hard for me because for most of my life I lived with just me and my mom alone so letting a new man in was very strange and I didn't like it one bit. But they got married and I started to talk to my father and gradually start to see him when one day he told me my mom was pregnant. I didn't believe him so I asked my mom and she said "who told you I was??" At that point I completely lost it. I lost everything. I lost the feeling of being my mom's baby, I lost my feelings for my mom and disappointment because she never got to tell me, and the fact that she ALWAYS would tell everyone that I was her Bella and she would never have another kid. Well Giuliana was born. I grew to accept it.
Two years pasted and I was finally in the 8th grade getting ready to graduate from the school I was in for 10 years. Life at home was going down hill until my mom had enough of me and kicked me out. I had to go and live with my father. Those where the worst days it seemed. Joseph, my father, really never grew up and still to this day hasn't and so to him life was just one great party with drinking and just loving life without caring about school or work. So that's what I did. I stopped caring about everything and all I did was cut, drink, and smoke pot with the totally wrong crowed. Finally I had enough of this way of living and begged my mom to let me come back and live with her. Thank God she let me!
After that I went to high school and well I was really depressed all the time and tried to isolate my self even more. I didn't want people really to notice me and I started to cut a lot again. In and out of school therapy I never told anyone what was going on and how I felt so I just bottled it all inside and let it out by a glass of vodka and a sharp razor blade. My mom took me out of the school I was in and sent me to a private boarding school in the middle of nowhere! I hated going there in the beginning but I grew to like it. Still I was having trouble with myself and self esteem and with cutting.
Mom had another baby, my brother Lorenzo. I hated it and told my mom while she was pregnant that I wished the baby died. But she had him on May 2nd, right before my birthday! Well, while my mom was in the hospital I got really depressed and ended up not eating or drinking for a week and then I had to go to the hospital on my 15th birthday because my kidneys where malfunctioning.
Sophomore year came and it left like forever! I joined tons of clubs and did sports but I wasn't happy. During basketball season they found out I was cutting bad and sent me home to get tested for 2 weeks. I really don't know what they were testing for but during the whole time being at home no one would talk to me and my mom would just turn the other way. Finally they let me back in school after me calling and me begging to go back. I started softball season and got hit by a ball in a game right in my eye! I had to go to the ER and get cat scans and everything. They gave me perks to take for the pain but they gave me so many of them, so I just held on to them. After my eye healed my boyfriend at the time Chris wanted to help me go out and find a summer job. I just turned 16 only 2 weeks previously and Chris was 19 turning 20. He parked his car in the train station and that's where I lost my virginity. I was date raped in the back seat of his car at 12:00 in the after noon. He dropped me off at my house after and I never heard from him ever again. I was ripped apart but I couldn't show it to anyone. I acted as if it were normal and just told my friends that it was all fun n games sort of thing. No one knew the pain I kept inside and I didn't tell any one either.
Junior year started and I was still cutting. Not only that but I was drinking even more and also popping pills and getting hooked on perks. Everyone loved me and wanted me to go to all of their parties because they knew I was easy and a crazy person when drunk. So that was my entire junior year, parties, drugs, sex, and, well the normal fighting and screaming between my mom and my father.
Finally, senior year at last! This was going to be my year! I was president of my class and student council, I was in the environmental group, teens in action, and captain of all sports I was in. Then everything hit me and I needed help. I finally told some one about the rape that happened to me in October and I was cutting really bad and then I tried to get a therapist but nothing was working out for me. I just kept cutting and cutting and I could no longer control it seemed. I sometimes did it up to 3 or 4 times a day and I just would not care!
I finally got put into a program which changed my life. In the beginning I pretended that everything was ok and I was the quite one who really never said too much but then I started to talk and it was helping. Two months into it I was almost out and then I got sent to a mental hospital because I tried to commit suicide again and drank so much I totally blacked out and didn't remember anything that happened that night. When I got admitted I hated it and everyone there. I kept cutting and I got in a huge fight with my mom which lead me to try to kill my self again. Finally I got out and returned to go to the program and now actually used it to my advantage. I got the help I needed and I got out of it on a positive discharge right before I graduated! I was so happy! I graduated and started my summer off and got my self a job.
I didn’t cut for a whole month but then living at home was starting to get hard. I started cutting again and didn’t really care what I was doing to myself. I got in a huge fight with my step-dad and then he told me to go and drown myself, so I tried. Looking back at that night I sometimes wish I went through with it because I hate him so much! I cried and cried and I cut so much that I was getting dizzy from all of the loss of blood. I had my friend's dad pick me up and I went to her house for the weekend. I came back and started to live with my grandparents.
Things aren’t better totally but they're getting there. I’m really trying now hard not to cut. I’ve been cutting for 7 years! Now its so hard to stop but as I write this now it's been almost one month without cutting. Yes, I’ve wanted to but some how I haven't and I’m happy I didn't. For me cutting is my addiction, when I was sad it was there to comfort me. When I was alone, scared, tired, or even if I was in a good mood, cutting was that thing to get me high and away from the moment, away from life. The scars are still there all over my body but the ones that hurt the most are the scars on my heart. I’m trying to learn to live but I don’t think I’ll ever learn to forget. This problem I might always have but its up to me wither I act upon it or not. The problem with addiction for me was the guilt of others. I didn't want to stop cutting for me I did it for other people. I would promise them I wouldn’t do it again, but I would slip and fall into doing it again. I would feel so horrible about doing it that I would just go and do more to get rid of the pain. It never worked. It was a vicious cycle and still is a vicious cycle! There are still days now when I walk by something sharp and imagine me using it to cut myself. There have been times of desperation like when I was in the hospital and I took the screw out of my wall to use it to cut myself. I’ve used knives, scissors, blades, razors, erasers, screws, rocks, plastic, my nails, a door stopper, anything I could get my hands on. It was a nasty thing having to search for the next weapon of choice to slash up my body. I hope people read this and realize that cutting is a very serious thing and that if you need help go get it before this addiction takes over our life like it did mine. I didn’t write every little detail just now but there is way more to my untold story of life and if anyone need to talk, ask questions, or just need to tell their similar story, I’m here for you. I know what the pain is like and how hard it is to reach out for help but please if you need help or know someone who needs help get help! Before it's too late. You never know when that one cuts going to be too deep. It might just be your last cut. My name is Jessica. I’m 18 years old. I’m a recovering addict of cutting. Thanks for reading my story.
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