NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO no no!!!
I have learned something while trying to help someone else.
In order for me to like myself, I have to change, not what I look like nor what I do, but what I think of that. So, instead of hating my hair, feeling like a failure for continuing to cut, and feeling awkward; I will consider all that normal and think of it as something I have to go through.
The cycle gets stronger. It pulls me down slowly. My stress and anxiety grow. And drown me. There is no other outlet for me. I walk mechanically over to the table and pull out my instrument. I think about everything and then nothing. After a few movements, I don’t feel anything but the physical pain that I, myself, control. In mere minutes I can finally see straight. Breathe. This has never failed to make me feel better. It’s a comfort.
My name is Nyah and this is the story of my life. I was born on april 19,1995. Indian and African American. I was born into a family with a grandmother for a crackhead and 3 aunts who were the most fucked up females in world’s history, but soon became 2 aunts in 2003 . My other aunt died but I don’t remember her I don’t even remember how she looks. I was malested by my cousins and family friend, but remember my family has a issue with bipolar and scitsofrania. But I was raped from 6 or younger but up to the age of 10. I was having sex and oral sex. it was 6 boys that were in the family who I was malested by. 1 family friend and that person was a he. I grew up thinking it was the right thing to do like who dosen’t fuck there own causents and live normal. Ever since I was born up to the age of 12 I was physically and mentally abused by my mother. Also I began to purge because My mom and aunt woulld say I was fat and had big thighs. The throwing up lasted for atleast 2 years. Umm I would go long periods of time without eating, the longest was 2 and a half weeks.
I really am glad that this website is here, i was so afraid to talk to anyone and now having this it feels like people who are just like me can help me out and give me advice to get through the hard times. Now i have a place to vent and finally get some help. I will no longer be afraid to confront my cutting problem.. I have been cutting since i was 13 and i want this knife war to be over with my own body. Cutting may be my addiction but i dont want this and i’m ready to give help and ask for help…..
If you know not what is wrong …… can you truely correct the problem ….
At this moment in time is wish i was at rock bottom ……. that utter hoplessness, the inability to remove yourself from bed, the complete numbness alternating with the unbearable mental anguis. At this moment is wish i had that …. i wish i could feel that ……. i wish that i could use that to excuse my behavoir this week . Avoidance…… Truancy……. the fake smile that has everyone fooled ……
I can feel it coming ….. i can feel rock bottom sitting there waiting until it has enough strenth to over power me ……… If i am personifying my lingering depression …… shouldn’t i at least name it …. I mean after all it has been somewhat of a constant companion in my life the past 5 years. …… Layin in wait…… gathering stranght until it is ready to pounce …….. leaving me crippled and just a shell ….. until it gets bored…… and allows me to get back some form of normalicy…… allows me to think that new starts are what i need …. taht things will work this time ……..
I’ve never been able to admit this to myself aloud. It’s like insulting myself,but at the same time when I do it I’m proud of it. That is,until someone walks into my room. Even though they don’t know what I just did. I feel like they can see everything. I just did it again yesterday. I really don’t how to stop. I want to now. But during those times I don’t want to stop. It all started when I was 5 years old. I use to bang my head on the walk or scratch my face when I was angry with my parents and frustrated with myself. I remember coming home from a wedding reception and I didn’t get to do what I want (I was a brat) so I pouted the whole way home and when I got home I banged my head against the wall and scratched my face with my nails. And I would keep doing that whenever I didn’t get my way. As I said before I was a brat. I’d cry all the time and I was always getting into physical fights until I was 13.
why cant all of this be over? I want to not be sick anymore its not fair. No more medicine, no more medical bills, no more stress. we have it rough as it is and now with me being sick medical bills arent making it any eaiser. This sucks. cerebellum what is it anyway? only the part of your brain that controls muscle movement, coordination and memory.. and whats this mine is fucked up? oh great. more medication, more appointments, more joy to spread )
Okay, i should be feeling good but i dont i feel less than myself. I feel like im not trying hard enough to become healthy and better. I feel disgusted.
i feel like singing this song all day ” I woke up I wished that I was dead with a aching in my head i lay motionless in my bed i thought off you” uggh im all alone in this thing im going threw. Oh well !