i cant take it anymore.

I had to tell someone.

Well, id have to write something down sometime, or I might just go insane. I can’t explain the way i feel, it just sort of happened over time. I guess you could say it happened back four years ago. I was in grade eight and well I had my first real boyfriend. Of course nothing that far back ever really lasts, but well it ment a lot to me at the time. So we lived about an hour away from eachother, and since neither of us could drive, we never seen eachother often. It didn’t really work out. Even though we both decided to stop seeing eachother, that was even harder than the distance already created. I started self harming, and at such a young age you think I would have told someone. I didnt. This progressed through to grade nine, when i met someone else. We had seen eachother when i was like 8, it was kind of a “baby love”. More funny than anything. I felt that i could tell him everything, but i was still scared of rejection. So even though we went out, i never told him that i was crying myself to sleep every night with a blade in my hand. I never left any clues either. Everyone thought i was perfectly happy. Which is exactly what i had wanted.
We didnt last long, but then again, what junior high relationship does? So thomas amusements came around that summer, i was on my way to being a “tenner” in high school. You could sense the thrill from me a mile away. It just so happens I met a guy there. He was far from your prince charming, but he was nice and made me feel special. He was kinda that bad boy that your parents didn’t want you with. It was perfect. We became really close, so close that i picked up some of his bad habits. He smoked close to a pack a day, of canadian classics. They were his favorite. Wasnt long before i started smoking about that much too. At this point I wasnt self harming as much. I spent most of my time with him, it wasnt really on my mind. I never bothered to tell him either. There wasnt any point. We became really close, and of course in high school, after two months of dating the girls supposed to “put out”. Which basically means have sex, or get dumped. I really wasnt ready. I told him that, thats when it really started to get bad. We were driving me and him, he parked and wanted to do stuff, i said no. He grabbed my arm so hard i thought for sure he was cutting of circulation. It was really scary, but it was my fault, I didnt do what he asked. We broke up not long after. Even though he was controlling, I really thought i loved him.
After we broke up, i got really close with this girl. We were best friends, we spent everyday together. So we decided to have our first drunk together. Some older guys invited to a beach party, and there was lots of beer. We got extremely shitfaced loaded as fuck. We got sent home early, because we were apparently too drunk. So we went back to her place for the night. Snuck past her parents, and got into bed. Somewhere from being drunk, and i dont know if you would say horny, shit happened. Im still not really sure what went on that night. There might have been a kiss, it got pretty steamy. Either way, we never talked about it. So on top of my insecurities, i now had wondered if I was a lesbian. Because truly, i had no clue.
The self harming got worst. After that i felt like i was worthless, and my life was nothing except something for guys to have sex with. So grade ten really started off with a bang. It was getting out of control. Everything, i was failing everything hardcore, i couldnt focus on anything because all i wanted was a blade and a lighter. Heat the blade and press it onto my leg as hard as I could. I cut the fucking shit out of my legs. I barely scraped through grade ten, and i couldnt even think about having another boyfriend because my last one, my crazy ex, well i was still in love with him. The summer finally came, and i was never happier to get out of school. I didnt really do much, except get a part time job, then i spent most of my time working, so it was a pretty chill summer. School started up again. This is the year that were “allowed” to drink because well, no one really knows why, its just an unwritten rule of high school. I almost liked it a little too much. I would get to the point where i didnt remember anything from the night before. I would end up home in bed, but have no idea how i got home. My friends didnt really say much, they just figured i was having fun, and left it be. I drank to try to be happy, to try and forget everything that happened to me before and live happy. Something i’ve forgotten how to do. I tried killing myself twice. One night i took a 24pk of advil and went to sleep. Thinking that i would die of an overdose, but i woke up. I was sick, and throwing up, but i was awake. The next time happened at new years…
So then there was a new years party. The best excuse known to man to get “shit faced wasted”. I was after suffering a guy problem, where i iked him, but he didnt like me back, but he liked my best friend. I thought, well this new years drunk is going to help me forget about this stupid guy. So i went to a house party with two friends, and well, you can almost guess when you get drunk, you tend to talk a lot. I started calling my best friend a whore to everyone at the party. While she could hear me perfectly. I got sent home then too, at around 12:30. They carried me home because i was unable to walk. They both flipped shit at me, but I would have too. While they stayed in my room i decided, Im going to try to kill myself. I ended up sitting in my deep fridge with my dads old pocket knife and i went at my wrists like there was no tomorrow. I guess they heard my screaming and crying, and lifted me out of the frezzer, which i had been in for well over 20 minutes. My feet were blue and my wrist was gushing blood like fucking niagra falls. They bandaged me up, put me to bed. We never spoke about this night again.
After that, we grew apart, i guess they didnt want to deal with my fucked up life. As much as i didnt want to either, but I couldnt run away from it, it was like a dark cloud that just followed me around. It was never going away. So after loosing my two best friends, i was completely destroyed of course. I started a blog on tumblr, and i started talking to more people who were addicted to self harming. It got to the point where i would have a lighter, light it until the metal was hot enough and melt my skin until i bled. Self harming made me feel like i dont even know, but it gave me some type of adrenaline rush, it was too strange. I started drinking a lot more too. But not with others, by myself. I would sit in my room, with whatever liquor i could find, and cut myself. I dont understand why i did it, i just loved to do it. So march came along and my best friend had a party, so i thought awesome, place to get fucking drunk. So i got really extremely loaded as fuck. And i told one of the girls about my legs, and showed her my marks. She was surprisingly helpful. I started crying the whole night because i felt so stupid for scarring my legs. She assured me that things would be alright, and stayed with me the whole night until i went to sleep.
The next day i had a pretty shitty hangover but, i still couldnt get out of my mind that she was so nice to me. I was still struggling with self harm, but in the back of my mind, i was still thinking about how maybe if i were to tell someone else, then maybe id get help. But i was way too afraid, all i wanted was to get away for a bit.
That april, i went to italy. It was the best thing that had ever ever ever happened to me. Before i left i started seeing this guy, and idk i felt like i was in this serious relationship, and i really didnt want one. When i went to italy, barely anyone had a cell phone. We were free to do what we wanted, and we drank practically every single night. Its like all my cares, worries, and insecurities were gone. Coming home was the biggest down fall. I was back in reality. One place, I thought i had forgotten. When i got back i was planning on leaving the guy i was seeing. Except he went to ireland for his ef tour, and bought me like 300 bucks worth of stuff. I couldnt say, i cant take his and dump him. It was way mean, and i can be mean, but i wouldnt want to hurt anyone that bad.
So we kept dating, he was kinda shy, and i really grew to love him. Im not gonna lie i did love him. We spent a lot of time together, and he didnt have many friends. That freaked me out, because this was really serious. He used to say things like, you;re my rock, and i cant live without you. I didnt know what to think. When i was stressed out about us, well i self harmed. I never told him, i couldnt have him judge me, and possibly tell someone else. Id be mortified. He started throwing a lot of parties, and every time i got sloshed. It was nuts. I loved it so much. I started hanging out with some new girls at school, and when the summer came, i was with them a lot of the time. They always went to the parties. We all became such good friends that they started inviting me places. So they had a girls night, and my boyfriend dropped me off. Drinks were there of course! Lets just say, well yet again i got drunk. But i became upset because me and my bf, were having troubles, and they all kept asking me about it. Everyone was drunk, and even though i was with over 10 people, i still felt alone. I went to the bathroom and started crying. I found a razor in the bathroom, and kept slitting my leg in the same place over and over again. I went out to realize i was bleeding perfusely through the pants i was wearing. My pants were soaked with blood, one of the girls asked what was wrong. I decided to tell her, and she decided to tell my boyfriend. He runs in and trys to “save the day”. I got mad, told him to leave, and i just went to sleep. The next day no one talked about it.
Me and him used to fight more, but only when we were both drinking. Talking to him sober was like talking to the wall, he barely ever had anything to say. We were talking about having sex, and i realized that im a virgin in grade 11 and i felt bad about myself and so lame. I really didnt want him to be my first though, because i didnt think it would last. So one night at his place, he threw such a huge party. I drank, more than i ever had before. 12 coolers and a 40 of sourpuss, and flame shots. I wasnt spending a lot of time with him because i wanted to enjoy the party with my friends. He thought i was mad at him so he went to his room. He texted me and told me, and i went to his room and he was sitting n his bed. i walked in and we started talking. I told him that i wasnt mad. We started making out, i thought he was just as drunk as me. He asked if i wanted to have sex. I dont remember saying yes, and i dont remember my clothes coming off. All i remember is lying on my back naked, and he was on top of me. It went on for a while. I dont really know how long. Im also pretty sure i blacked out in the middle of it all. I remember sitting up and he was across the room. I hauled on my clothes and said, i want to go home. He said alright, ill give you a ride. I laughed and said you cant drive. He said, of course i can, i didnt drink yet tonight.
The next morning i woke up in my own bed. I remembered what he said, and i started crying. I didnt know what to think. It was a week later and i had to break up with him. If he did that to me once, who knows how many times it could happen again. He was furious. I started hanging out with this other guy, and started smoking a lot of pot. Like more than 100 bucks worth a week. He started freaaking out. My ex would text this guy, and say how’s banging my women and stuff. Even though we didnt, and were just friends.
The next month started and i skipped my period. I started freaking out because i remembered that night. I was so stressed out, i took a pregnancy test. It was negetive, it was a sigh of relief, but i was still wondering why i hadnt started. I started punching myself in the stomach, planking on my stomach, i was a mess.
I had to ask him if he wore any protection, because i could not remember. I texted him, and was really nice about it. I just asked if he wore anything, he said yes. That was another sigh of relief. Then he called me and yelled and told me to see a doctor. I was freaking out still, it was a month and a half and i didnt start. My mom knew that something was wrong, and even though i was frightened, i had to tell her. I started crying, so did she. She left the house and bought like 5 tests. All were negetive. We were both really close for the duration of the scare. She was actually pretty understanding. Two weeks after, i finally started. Mom said it was probably stress. We had a sigh of relief, and she promised not to tell my dad. I thought, well its finally over.
Clearly i was wrong. There was a rumour at school that i was pregnant, with the guy i was just friends with! And the person who started it all, was my ex. I texted him back and he said, well it couldnt have been me, must have been that other guy that knocked you up. Well i just brushed it off, and said wow someones pretty childish, and cant handle a break up. He ended up lookng like a big idiot. It was great, even though i still had to explain to people that i wasnt pregnant. So after all that, he was out of my life, but i still wasnt happy. And i still self harmed. Not as much as i used to, but i still did. School started up again and after that summer and well, another school year started but i was pretty lonely, and just wanted a guy to maybe start talking to me. Maybe have a good relationship, with a guy that maybe wont take advantage of me. Maybe stop thinking about how i wished killing myself had worked. Stop feeling worthless, and stop feeling like if i were to leave this world no one would care. Since this is my last year of high school, im trying to play it by ear. Trying to live happy, and trying to see that maybe theres something, and someone out there for me. I havent self harmed since october 30th, and today is January 3rd. I still drink, and i still smoke pot, not as much but i still do. I would say im happier now, but im not. I still have doubts whether i want to wake up the next morning because im so upset. But im trying my best to be optimistic about life.
Over the last two days, i started talking to someone who makes me feel really special, and who knows maybe it will work out. I dont know what the point of this was, maybe ill show someone someday, or maybe ill just delete it. Or even keep it for myself. All i know is that things can get better. But they have to get worst before they can. If theres always a rainbow after a storm, i guess ill just keep waiting for my rainbow to come.

3:38 am • 3 January 2012