The beginning and the end

I’m not sure where to start this at but I guess the beginning would be nice, wouldn’t it?

I and my family had just moved to a small town in the state of Washington. I left everything behind but since I was so young I didn’t really have much to leave. After several months of being in the new town, my mother had gotten me a Facebook. She had originally gotten it for me so I could play Farmville; I kept playing hers and ruining her stuff. Not too long after I walked through the door of social media I had met a girl. We were both the same age and loved the same type of music. She lived two states away from me but that didn’t stop our friendship from growing. About around the end of 5^th grade she had started to become depressed. I didn’t think too heavily on it though. The thought of self-harm was still unknown to my young brain. So about halfway into 6^th grade, I too became depressed but not as much as my friend. She had started to cut her wrists with scissors. I soon took the habit to. At first I did it just to make her see I knew what she was going through. But as the days went on I truly got depressed and started to do it with a knife. I didn’t care if she was still doing it, I was hurting and I wanted to get my mind off of it. A couple weeks after my birthday in 2012 I had met two more friends on an app called Kik. One was a girl, she was 15. The other was a boy, he was 13. The two of them were originally friends but then they added me to their group of friendship. I think that’s when I started to become stressed out more than I was before. Me and the boy were dating as soon as we had met and the girl had soon become my second best friend. The three of us were pretty close. But fights started to happen, cheating and lying was also accruing. My self-harm had gone unnoticed by my parents after a month, so I kept doing it with kitchen knives. I was only scraping my skin though, nothing too bad. In July, two months after I started cutting. The neighbors’ nephews were visiting for the week. They had come over the following year, but now they were older. The two boys would come over every day and stay the day until they had to go home. The older one had grown to like me. I liked him too, he was kind and funny. Even if he was a bit younger than me, I liked him. One day he asked me out and I wanted to say yes but I was dating someone two states away. After telling the neighbor boy about my relationship he decided to step in. Me and my boyfriend at the time weren’t really happy together. We cheated and yelled at each other. Me and him broke up that same week, and the neighbor boy went home after kissing me for the very first time. We swapped numbers and that was it. Nothing more happened for a bit, until two weeks after the Fourth of July. Everything started to crumble around me. I had told the neighbor boy something that had happened to me in the past and he told his grandparents. Who told the neighbors, who then called the police. That was when my parents found out about the cuts. When they found out they couldn’t trust me as much as they would like to. My older brother almost got arrested for my stupid mistake. I had already been in trouble for sexting on my iPod. Yes at such a young age I was doing that stuff. I didn’t like it but I was…

July 13^th, 2012. I had stayed up late that night to watch a movie I had been looking forward to for weeks on end. Around the same time my movie started, I received a text from a girl. She was only a year older than me and she lived in Australia. Her name was Emily. She pretty much ruined my life. To be honest I don’t even know if that is her real name. She’s played me so many fucking times I don’t even know where to begin. But I guess I need to start somewhere. When the girl texted me on the app Kik, she was telling me about how she was kicked out of her house. That she was pregnant with a child. And that the father was a 19 year old man named Chris. Of course I believed her, I was stupid. I still am stupid. For several months she pulled me along into this trail of stories. She was rapped, beaten. She was dating Chris even though he rapped her multiple times. She lost the child. She was homeless. She was sick. She pretended to be a man named Matt and a man named Liam. She dragged me along. But before I get passed August, I need to say something. I was supposed to die in August. I had already had two of my close friends commit suicide. Around the middle of August I had cut over 50 times, I had been cyber-bullied so bad I swallowed over 100 pills in one go. Nobody knew though. I would get random texts from strangers telling me to go kill myself. I wanted to so badly. I have tried to choke myself, to cut deep enough, to drown myself. To overdose. I went so far I put a knife to my neck but I didn’t do it…I couldn’t do it. August 26, 2012. I was sitting next to my mom on the couch when my sleeve was pulled back, exposing my cuts. She lost all trust in me even more. She was angry at me. I think she even hated me. I was so scared she would beat me, I was bawling upstairs in my room. Chanting that I was sorry, over and over again. The next month I was still cutting and trying to over dose on painkillers, it wasn’t working out. October came around; I was just getting more depressed in middle school. I also started to see things and hear voices. I was going nuts! My mom decided to make me see a therapist. He helped me and on October 26, 2012; I stopped cutting; for a while at least. I lasted to December. By then I had lost nearly all of my friends from the summer and I was eating up lies from anybody willing to tell them. I met a boy named Dalton in November. I knew him for a couple weeks before he disappeared. He was replaced with Austin and Jared; two friends of his. Austin was mute, I didn’t really believe it but I sort of did. I was fine up till the last week of school before winter vacation. I was getting bullied at school and I wrote a note. It was a “suicide” note. All the teachers I had were worried about me, the counsellor sent me back to my therapist. I started to cut again. I didn’t want to be there. I just wanted to die. My depression had just gotten worse and each day I just wanted to swallow that razor and just stop putting a fake smile on. I don’t remember what month it was, maybe it was February, I don’t really know. The middle school was having a party and I attended. It was during school anyways. I didn’t really like socializing with people that hated me so I sat next to the lockers; hugging my knees. My phone was wrapped up in my sweaty hand. I had gotten a message from Jared and Austin. Telling me how much they hated me; thought I was sick and stupid. Thought I was a slut that should go shoot myself in the head or should go jump of a fucking bridge and make everyone fucking happy by just killing myself and leaving them the fuck alone. I honestly wanted to just do exactly what they said that day. If I wasn’t being walked home by my neighbor Caden, I would’ve never returned home alive… I wanted to kill myself I wanted to so badly. I had lost so many people in just over a couple months; it sucked so fucking much to be alive. I just cut more and more and more. My 13^th birthday rolled around, I was dating someone new. His name was Liam, a friend of Emily’s’. I should’ve known something was wrong from the beginning but he swept me off my feet and I fell in love. In May and June I met 3 boys. James, Mickey, the last boy I can’t really remember his name but I’m sure when I start typing it’ll come to me. James and Mickey didn’t stay around long but they pulled some heart strings of mine. The made me cut a bit more too but not more than I was already doing. This boy though…wasn’t even a boy. It was a girl from New York. She was a year older than me and Crazy As Fuck. All of those boys I met (Dalton, Jared, Austin, James, Mickey, etc.) were all her and she planned to write a book about how stupid and slutty I was. I felt stupid and cut till my arm was numb and the blood was pounding out of my veins, I bled so much it ached. But I kept the pain to myself. Unlike normally I would rush to tell somebody and cry on their shoulders. It was my fault, I kept it to myself. That summer was pretty dull, I met a friend who knew my pain and we stuck together for a while; we’re still best buds now.  Liam and I were still dating; I was oblivious to the thought of him not being real. It never occurred to me. He seemed so real…like he was really in love with me. The start of 8^th grade was better than last years. I met a girl, her name was Ashley. We were in Art class together. She seemed pretty awesome…Until she became rude and nasty to me. She would yell at me nearly any chance she got. She always tried to be better than me. And she is, because I’m just a worthless piece of horse shit that doesn’t deserve to even be fucking alive right now. She annoyed me and annoyed me. The first half of the year went by in a flash. Nothing really happened too much in October or November except the fact I started to smoke. Everything started happening in December, again. She made everybody think that me and her were running away to California and making it seem like a kidnapping. When she got busted for this she blamed everything on me. I had nothing to do with her stupid little plans and yet the school and the police were yet again on my case. After that settled down my mom caught me stealing cigarettes. Then I found out Liam was really Emily the whole fucking time; she did it because she was curious. I also met a boy named Ryan. I let him into my life, into my family’s life. He played COD with my little brother. We Skype day and night. Then at the beginning of the year he pretends to commit suicide. I wasn’t cutting back then; I had stopped for several weeks. But as soon as he pretended to commit suicide I started to cut my wrists again; deeper this time. I was also cutting in my sleep. I was just so fucked up and to make it worse, the only person I could trust moved away and is moving again soon; half way across the states. To make it even worse, after she moved I found out I was in love with her. And I had to play like it was a different girl with the same name. I had to lie about everything. In January, 2014: I started to see a therapist again. A different one this time. It is currently June 6^th; 2014 and I have not slit my wrist since January 10^th of this year. I am still overly depressed and seeing things that don’t exist. I’m still getting bullied and I’m still in love with this girl who doesn’t even like me just the slightest bit. But I’m getting better. But some days I just want to grab this razor and shove it down my throat or into my vein. Honestly I just wish I could go back to the way I use to be. Before I turned like this.