I used to think things would never go my way. That i wouldn’t be able to be happy and not always trying to be perfect. But i was wrong. For the first time in about five years, things are good, and i’m happy.
I am now a fifteen year old girl, a FRE$HMAN.
Things started to go bad when i was around ten. My first dog, Midnight, had gotten an ear infection. I loved him. He wasn’t the smartest dog, but definately the best. Anyway, the ear infection had become too expensive and we couldn’t take care of him. We gave him up to a women, who luckily was a vet. Even though i knew he was in good hands, it still upset me to lose him.
We were in the begining of the recession, and my family couldn’t afford the things we used to anymore. I had to start giving up things, like Dance.
i started dancing when i was five. it became apart of me.My getaway. The one thing i’ve always loved,and always will. At around ten years old, i was at the dance studio every single day, except sunday. I’d go right after school, from about 4 pm till 9 pm. Saturdays i was there from about 8 am to 10 pm. Everyone in the studio was a big family. But with dance costing up to 5,000 a month, i had to drop it. That was the big first thing that went wrong.
Without dance, i had no way to cope. I didn’t know any other way to get my emotions out in a healthy way. So when my parents started fighting, i didn’t know what to do.
Every other night i would hear yelling and shouting and fights coming from my parents room upstairs. i started to cry myself to sleep.On a camping trip one day, we took the rv. But in the bathroom was a nail sticking out of the wall. My mom went to the bathroom, my dad knew she was there. He slammed on the brakes, causing my mom to hit her head on the nail,getting stuck there. i opened the door, saw the nail in her head, backed away and feinted.
Finally, they got a divorce and my dad moved out. When he moved out, i went from seeing him every day, to seeing him once every six months or so. It upset me, never seeing him anymore, especially since i’ve always been a daddy’s girl. Then i found out why they got divorced, because my dad cheated on my mom. My distrust for males had begun.Even now, i only see him for about half an hour once a month, for my orhtodontist appt.
Somewhere inbetween all this, my uncle passed away, on Christmas day,in his sleep, because of brain cancer.
My brother had a girlfriend, we’ll call her crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch. now, crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch was very controlling. “it” made my brother stop talking to all his friends that were girls. “it” made him pretty much praise her and hate everyone else. Crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch and her mother practically brainwashed my brother into hating his family and loving them. He began to lash out at my mom and hate her. My mom had grounded my brother for not keeping his room clean, and took away his phone. he snuck in her room and got it, and was texting crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch. my mom had yelled at him and asked for the phone back. he started yelling at her, then pinned her to the ground. I started punching him over and over, but he was five years older then me, and stronger. he pushed me down.he ran out of the house. My mom called the cops and any of my brothers friends to try and find him. A few hours later he came home. He went to crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch’s hosue. oh and uh, crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch made my brother buy her a dog and secretly hide it. the dog pissed and shitted all over my brothers’ room. After two months, my mom finally found out. At this time, my sister and her bf came up to go snowboarding. My mom went into my brothers’ room to talk to him about the dog. he was playing poker on his laptop and wouldn’t listen to her. she went to go and shut the laptop and he started throwing punches. I heard them fighting, and i heard banging, so i went and opened the door. My mom had my brother pinned down and there was a cut on him forehead and he kept trying to punch my mom in the face. i grabbed my jacket and left.
When i came back, an hour later, there were two cop cars, and my dad’s gf’s car. his gf made me sit in the car for a little, until i had to pee. i went directly into the house. my mom had came inside with the officers asking for a restraining order. they told her what she had to do and they left. My brother stayed at a friend’s house that night. i had later found out my brother tried to get my mom arrested that night, and it wouldn’t be the last time.
During all the fighting, my brother beat himself up, and took pictures of the bruises. he wrecked his room and took pictures. he then went to child services and told them my mom was abusing him. they then started to look into it. they questioned my mom, and questioned me. After looking into it, and learning about the other incidents with him, they figured out he had made it up as a scam.
Another night, my brother went into the bathroom after dinner, like he always does. he eats and it comes right out. But my mom walked by and heard him crying, and asked if everything was okay. he said yes. but he stayed in for a long time. my mom got the key out and unlocked the bathroom door. He had cut. they went to the hospital. crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch had broken up with him. but soon after, they got back together.
My mom didn’t know what else to do, so she sent him to live as far away from crazymotherfuckingcuntbitch as possible. 400 miles away. think that would solve things? no. three months in nevada, and nothing changed.
My brother moved in with my dad. then my mom couldn’t afford our house with just her, so we moved in with her boyfriend. there was a lot of stress over our living situation.
Because my brother and my sister both fucked shit up for themselves, my mom and dad expected me to be the perfect one, so everything that i do that isn’t 100% perfect, i get yelled at or grounded or smacked for. Because of them always expecting me to be perfect, i became a perfectionist. And every time i wasn’t perfect, i got angry. i got frustrated. i got depressed. and i took it out on myself.
Because of everything that happened, and losing dance, and not having a way to cope, i learned to cope in a bad way. By cutting.
Summer of 2011, things got really bad. I could no longer even pretend to be okay. When i was in a sane mind, i was terrified of myself. I thought i was a monster. i had joined cheerleading, but it was torture. Every little mistake i made tore at me. I dreaded going to practice all day long. i told my mom i wanted to go to the doctors. i told my mom i wanted to quit cheerleading. I did.
September 27th, i went to the doctor. i told them how depressed i was, and that i was cutting. They brought me to the emergency room. Out of all the dark times in my life, this next hour and a half was the darkest. They brought me into a room that only had a bed and a camera and locked me in there. Three people came and asked me questions. No one told me what was going to happen to me. No one told me if i was going to be locked in the hospital overnight. I had to wait an hour until i found out i could go home. That week i started seeing a therapist.
My brother finally got his shit together. He joined the airforce and just recently graduated Basic training. He’s going in for special ops, and has the best, nicest, most awesome girlfriend ever, and hopefully they’re going to get married.
Today is December 28th, 2011. It has been three months and one day since i’ve last cut. The journey has been hard, and i’m not quite done yet, but i’m happier then i’ve ever thought i would be. And i’m so glad i’m alive.
