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Personal/Recovery Stories

Why I'm scarred.

Here I am, 03.05 on a wednesday, drunk and high as a shitfuck. My name is Natalie, and I'm born in -92. I live on my own, but previously lived in foster care for 12 years (one and the same family). I'm likeable, smiling, socialble and kind. I am a loudmouth, cant keep it shut. I'm short, have dark brown hair and have eyes that shift between yellowish brown and green with a wierd grey/blueish ring round it. I'm fit, and I have tiny freckles. I'm above average, if that's even a legitimate fucking thing to say 'bout oneself. I'm from Sweden, and I've been self injuring since I was 13. 
And WHY do I do this?
First of, I need to get this clear. Self injuring for me is not "just" cutting/burning - it's everything destructive. You know all the things they list as borderline "symptoms"? Yeah, that's me, alright. Fucking, drinking, and doing drugs too much, cutting,  ignore friends, binge eating, starving, breaking my fucking fists. 
This likeable, happy young female - why would she do all of these things to herself? She seems happy, always smiling and making people laugh? What could've ever gone wrong in her life? Nothing, right? Read more »

NatalieMars Why I'm scarred. in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 1 month ago ()

2/7/2013

... Hi...
I'm in a bleh mood... which isn't anything new but... ehhhhh..... I'm usually like this but I always act sarcastically to make people smile and think nothings wrong but... I just don't give a shit. 

I was cleaning the kitchen and putting the dishes I had just cleaned back in the cupboard- the only people here were me, my friend, and my little brother.
"What's wrong?" she asked me, "Nothing...." I told her- because I can't honestly tell you what's wrong...
"Well, you're not acting like yourself," "Yes I am, I'm acting exactly like myself," she couldn't say anything to that for a few seconds. "No, you're acting like the old you and you need to cut it out," I didn't bother responding. 

A few minutes later- almost half an hour, I returned to my room and she followed me and she started this conversation and she wasn't rubbing it in my face- but she kind of pointed out that last year my family was more open to her than to me, they still are. She found out my brother and his girlfriend broke up a few minutes after it happened while no one even told me- but then again... it's not like it was me that just broke up with someone... I don't know... it doesn't bother me that no one told me, but this and the whole random mess I typed above have a point. I realized today that I am different.  Read more »

FytesGrasp 2/7/2013 in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 3 months ago ()

My Bullying Story

I made my way from Biology to fourth period English as fast as I could. I was afraid to walk alone in the hallways; I was afraid of what they would do to me. Later, there would be security guards walking me from class to class, but now, I was alone.

I sat down in my chair and shifted my head to look out the window. My English classroom had a view of construction. Lucky me. I pretended to be absolutely fascinated with it as other students filed in the room. The atmosphere went from silence to clamorous, students bubbling with conversation. Not me. I knew the brunt of the conversation was about me: Where I’d been, why I was skipping classes and leaving school grounds. Rumors that were made to make me look bad, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.

The warning bell rung, symbolizing the fact that there was one minute left before the late bell. More students shuffled into the room. I felt the stares burn into me as the class settled down. By this point in the school year, I couldn’t handle the bullying I had endured since school started. I had bottled it all inside for far too long.

“Alright, everyone take out your journals and homework and complete your warm-up. We’ll go over it after I take attendance,” My English teacher said.

I acted as if I was furiously enthralled with the warm-up as I scribbled down some bs for an answer. In reality, I could care less. I was too busy replaying words I remembered, things that my closest friends had witnessed that were breaking me apart. Read more »

autismtwin My Bullying Story in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 4 months ago ()

Make Up?

I NEVER wear make up... and a few months ago I came to the conclusion that the reason I don't wear make-up is because I don't want to seem like I'm trying. I don't want to seem like I care and it's put me behind in a lot of things. But my friend convinced me and kept asking and I figured- since I was feeling good I would go along with it. I only put eye liner on, and you know what she did? As soon as I put the cover on the stick she grabbed my arm and dragged me out in front of everyone in my house. Before you get ahead of yourselves, I live in a single wide three bedroom trailer, which isn’t too small, until you realize you have soon to be eleven people living in it (my brother’s girlfriend is pregnant, and she lives with us- so about ten and a half lol). Everyone was home, so I was dragged out into the living room in front of nine people I did NOT want to see me like that. And they wouldn’t have noticed if my friend hadn’t said anything- but then they noticed. I don’t know how I feel about that. Read more »

FytesGrasp Make Up? in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 4 months ago ()

Me As of 1/1/13

Hiya :3

Well, it’s a new year- congratulations on surviving this far. I’m a little drunk- not really… but just enough to be able to pull off being drunk if I decided to but obviously not too far gone if I can still type. Earlier- before I started drink, I was driving, and I have the urge to ask- or at least tell, because I know no one is going to respond to this: When I’m in a car I have the desire to open the door and just jump out, I play it over and over again in my head, but even worse I have this compelling feeling to swerve the car into oncoming traffic when I’m driving. Mostly when I know the other vehicle will do more damage to me- like if I crashed into a tracker trailer or a bus or something, does anyone else have this?

I have the memory of when I was probably 12, I was walking from the back room through the kitchen and into the living room, but while I was still exiting the back room I envisioned myself grabbing the gallon of bleach perched on the table and downing it. It all played in my head in a matter of milliseconds, but time around me seemed to stop just for it, and when time continued playing I wanted to do just that. I pretty much had to force myself to walking away. I’ve had things like this play over in my head all the time, have you? Read more »

FytesGrasp Me As of 1/1/13 in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 4 months ago ()

Me As of 12/31/12

Hello :D
How’re you today? You’re probably sleeping if you live in the same time zone as me- it’s exactly 12:30 AM, I tried to go to sleep but I couldn’t so I’d figured I type :). This is the first one I've done so it's probably going to be long- and yes, I plan on maybe doing more. This whole things is just going to be a blab about me so feel free to leave now, though I know this story is going to take a turn down a dark alley~ anyways, for right yet my mask hasn’t worn off :D. A week and three days ago my best friend… maybe I should start by explaining her. I won’t mention her name, but my best friend is well… my best friend, I know I can tell her any secret I want and she won’t judge me, she spends about 300 days a year at my house, and my mom thought we were going out for a while. So as you can tell from this little information- her and I are really close and I feel like I can trust her. She found out about me cutting myself, at first I just told her that they were old scars and we left it at that, then a few days later I sorta told her I was still in the process but she was half asleep so I don’t know if it really clicked for her, but she hasn’t said anything about it nor mentioned it. Read more »

FytesGrasp Me As of 12/31/12 in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 4 months ago ()

My Not So Happy Ending

My story.....I don't know, I've been made fun of since I was little, can you belive that? I was a child, they would glare, whisper things, I didn't understand at the time, that everyone hated me. It got worst in school, I've always believed I don't need friend, that if I have any, I'll just hurt them and use them for my own wants, which is what I do exactly know, even if I try to stop. I don't know how to be a real friend. I am lesbian, which doesn't help. I feel in love with a girl, my best friend, she is straight, she left me five times before truly leaving my life. she acts nice to me still, over internet. I want to die, I don't know ware I went wrong, I tried to commit suicide once and I plan not to fail next time, I cut my wrist. do you understand my pain yet? do you? I am afraid of men, afraid of them hurting me, knowing that if a man decided to hurt me, to rape me, I wouldn't be able to fight back ,I am afraid because I have nightmares about it. I htink..when I was little, when those time when the only memories you have of it is dreams, I am afraid i was raped when I was little, it...is true, i can feel it, in my body, I just cant remember anymore, I was so young, do you understand my pain? do you?    I cut so deeply, but no blood comes, why not? I don't understand. I need to see it to make sure I am alive. I feel numb and broken. Can't anyone help? People call me a disease, just because of whom I love, because I cut, because I starve myself because I am fat.

Serena Elric My Not So Happy Ending in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 5 months ago ()

Guess I've lost hope

I've always felt different and out of sorts. As I got older the worse it got. Struggling with my identity, feelings, image. It didn't help that my own family helped create this. Between the secrets hidden and negativity I guess I never did have a chance. Left to feel alone and broken.

I started self injury at the age of 15. That's when I felt most lost. I've been wondering ever sense. I started by accident in a way. I had an itch on my arm and what I had nearby was a nail. I needed something stronger than my own hands. As I scratched and it dug into my skin I realized that not only was the itch better but something else triggered a sense of relief. That's how I started.

I started on my forearms, I liked seeing the scars. Seeing them everyday reminded me of my escape from what we call life. I was able to make excuses for awhile. Soon my mom found out. I didn't get a response that was expected as she just yelled at me and called me selfish and stupid. So I moved to my shoulders and upper chest and added burning to my list.

At 16 I tried to kill myself for the first time. I've never told anyone about my suicide attempts. I was tired of feeling fat, ugly, my feelings so confusing inside, tired of being picked on. So one day, I opened my brothers trunk and found his gun. I didn't know what I was doing but I knew it was loaded. I put it to my head and pulled..... Nothing. I didn't have the guts to do it again however. Read more »

stoneheart Guess I've lost hope in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 6 months ago ()

Me.

Started self-injuring at eleven years old.
really hate my self for so long.
recently getting better.
Some days are so hard.
I am seventeen
I love music and art and science and polotics and law. I love reading. When I can.
i am a student and hoping to start college next year.
I am Canadian.
hope I keep it up, been a couple years since cutting and severe SI.
I am me.
i am into girls.
undecided about guys.
i don't care if you have an issue with that.
i do really love people though. I want to help them even if I can't help myself.
i like watching movies.
once i was told I had borderline personality disorder. But it wasnt official. I have been hospitalized two times. Hopefully no more though. I work. I do most house work too... my parents work I have an alcoholic brother and abusive biological "dad" I play guitar. I like to write. I like horses. I like skiing. I feel like i have improved but my mental health still sucks.
i remember being totally hysterical and being pinned down. I remember endless nights of crying until sleep took me over.
i remember suicide attempts. Two. Both obviously unsuccessful. Thank goodness.
i have a suprime jealousy of any one who can believe in something greater like religion. I am not religious. Wish I was, trust me you can't help me in that aspect. Thanks to anyone who cares to read this. Pain is inevitable ... i will be okay we will all be okay
okayStay strong. Much much love.
be proud of yourself. Even if others don't understand you. I hope we all find better ways of coping than SI.

peace love & rock n' roll.
dani

Danirp Me. in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by 7 months ago ()

I Hit Rock Bottom and I Hit Hard.

All of us say self-injurers say these things at one time or another, "I can control this", "I know when to stop", "I won't ever go too deep". We all usually convince ourselves that these things are true as well. Now, from personal experience, I can tell you they're not. Not even a little. How do I know? Well, as of late things have been very rough and stressful for me. I'm 18 and moving out and into a house with my fiance. We're both trying our best to get everything together and pay for bills and everything that we have to have. But it's hard. And sometimes because it's so hard, we fight. A day ago, we fought and we fought badly. It's all a big blur to me now sort of and really doesn't even matter, but at the time, it was real and the frustration and pain cut deep. Almost as deep as I did. Let me paint the picture for you, we're riding down the road, talking normally at first. Things get heated, the yelling starts. I don't like yelling. He's mad, I'm mad. I don't like that either. I'm bawling and screaming, and I feel it come on. I start to go into a slight anxiety attack, I'm trying to catch my breath. I can't take it anymore. All I can think about is making it stop. I pull a blade out of my bag and the last thing I say is "This is so hard for me and I'm done!" Slice. Usually, I pay attention to what I'm doing. I didn't this time. Because of that, I went deeper than I thought. Read more »

I Hit Rock Bottom and I Hit Hard. in Creativity - Personal Story/Recovery Story published by Anonymous 8 months ago ()