“Why?  TRIGGER WARNING”

“I know nobody cares what’s happened or what will happen to me, but i’m writing this because I have to get it out. I was accused of sexually assaulting one of my “friends”, in 7th grade. We cuddled in her bed watching anime. Nothing happened that I wouldn’t do with my best friend. And it was mutual, that much I'm sure of. I was 13 and barely knew what love was, I knew that I thought I was in love and she said she loved me. That was the first time I learned that there’s a difference between in love and loving someone. That girl tried to kill herself because of what I assumed was me. I learned later on that she’d been suicidal for a long time, and I had pushed her over the edge, again. From that point on, no one knew that I was tearing myself up every single second of every single day. I quickly learned how to put on a mask so everyone I met knew me as this confident, bubbly girl who made everyone smile. In reality I think it’s because I know how it feels to go through a day and not have any reason to smile. I got text messages from this girl and several of her “friends” telling me what I did and why I had to apologize and how much hell I was putting her through. This was the start of 7th grade. About halfway through 7th grade we got a suicide talk. I was crying 2 minutes in because our Social Studies teacher was telling us his daughters story. I had to get up and leave, as well as my other “friend”. We’ll call this girl Emmy. Now Emmy was a compulsive liar, but none of us knew until the end of 7th grade. Emmy was also very suicidal and depressed, but she never showed it. She started texting me and telling me an elaborate story of how her biological brother was on the same cruise as her, a total coincidence too, but apparently he got her drunk and raped her and she ended up pregnant. None of this was true. After we busted her on that, a couple weeks later, Emmy started sending anonymous death threats to all of her friends, herself, and her boyfriend, which ultimately ended in her having a restraining order taken out on her by several of her friends, Emmy had her stuff searched and the police took her phone. Low and behold, Emmy was sending the texts. She was suspended for the rest of the year but chose to move away. She made me believe she was the only person I could talk to and that she was the only person who understood what I was going through. I was suddenly alone again. By the end of 7th grade I had tried to overdose and my wrist was covered in cuts. But still, nobody knew. I was careful, I was methodical. Summer before 8th grade came and life got bad. My parents started fighting and my dad would come home higher than a kite. It’s nights like those that taught me how to read emotions better than anyone i’ve ever met. I had a motto for a long time of, “If they won’t stop hitting you, you make them hit you, because at least then you’re prepared. I think that was my way of protecting myself from getting my back, butt, and thighs beat with a leather belt. I put up this barrier from the world and it’s still up today. I protected myself, but I had no way to protect my 2 little siblings. Eventually, If I knew I couldn’t stop it I would antagonize him to get him to beat me and leave my little siblings alone because I know how easy he loses his temper with them. When I was younger, I remember getting pulled up the stairs by my wrist only to have my dad tell me to bend over and it wouldn’t hurt as much. I started crying as he started hitting me with this leather belt over and over. After about 3 swats my legs gave out and he was holding me up by my wrist, still beating my backside. My mom and my dad’s mom had to scream at him to get him to stop. I was 6 or 7 then. The year of 8th grade came and most people had forgotten about what happened in 7th grade. Except me. I tortured myself everyday because that girl could’ve died, and it would’ve been on me. I still think about her every single day and wonder why she said those things. I still wonder what I did wrong, what I said wrong. The year of 8th grade came and I was a horrible student, I was a suicidal mess. I cut, deeper this time, mainly because I had nothing left to lose. I met a girl who quickly made it known that she wanted nothing to do with me. Cue yet another reason I needed to go away for a while. I don’t really remember 8th grade that much, as I was often high off something or stoned off my ass. Freshman year came around and life got better, a lot better. I thought, “Yes!! This is my reward. I knew it would get better, I'm so glad I held on!!”, little did I know, my life was about to get flipped upside down. I met a junior who was a closeted lesbian, and she had a boyfriend who didn’t care what she did with girls. Cover story, I guess. Long story short, I opened up to her and I had a crush on her. She used me to make out with my best friend, who at the time, had a boyfriend. Everything was awkward after that because we both ran with the same crowd of people, the stoners. I was a stoner, I smoked about 4 times a week for about 2 months. I smoked weed, I drank, I vaped, I smoked cigarettes, I snuck out, and I skipped so much class I was supposed to have a month of detentions, every day. I was a horrible child. I think it’s because I went numb and I loved that feeling. I stopped caring about anything for a long time. For the next year and a half, I chased that high feeling. Then we moved and I had to leave behind my entire life. I fell back into the swing of depression. I never really made friends. So I guess if there’s a lesson here its that, “It can’t rain forever but it might get harder before it gets better.” I know that is true So I know that I was in the calm before the storming stage when things get better, I’m learning to lower my expectation for life, but not succeeding very well.” - me

I wrote this almost two years ago, it’s been one hell of a journey but I’m on a high right now (literally), So I’d say I turned out just fine. Life has turned out to be pretty okay right now. However, I remember how I felt like when all of that was happening. And it was horrible, I remember laying in bed just wanting to fall asleep and not wake up, I remember how desperate I was for someone to notice, I remember pulling my sleeves up to my elbows when I was alone in public just because I needed to know if even one person was there. And I remember how it felt to end it. And it was absolutely terrible after I swallowed those pills, it was immediate regret. Immediate regret. Do you know what it feels like to choose to die and then realize you’d made a mistake but you can’t fix it anymore? Because I do, I remember exactly how every single moment felt. And it’s been one hell of a ride through thick and thin. But I’m still alive, and it did get better. A few months after I wrote that, I met this guy, Chris. He smokes too, and I might have fallen in love with him. I don’t know, we’ve been FWB for a few months now, and we dated for a little while but then we realized that we need to know each other better. I got my phone taken away for weed charges though, and that sucks, but it’s nothing compared to my problems when I wrote that. So I just wanted you to know that it’s so cliche, but it will get better. I promise.