I grew up with an alcholic/drugaddict father, and my mom and dad got divorced when i was only 6months. You don't know how lucky you are if your parents are still together. It's really hard growing up with 3 diffrent "fathers" in your life, expecially when you don't have a lot of friends to talk to about how you feel. When i was in kindergarten i was outside on the swings, and someone came up to me and tried to kill me, i felt like there was something wrong with me bc they abviously didn't want me in this world. As years went by i was a happy kid until 5th grade. in 5th grade i moved schools in December and was the new kid for the very first time in my life, and on the first day i felt really nervous, but when i got there everybody wanted to be friends with me. I had it all, i had at least 15 friends, but this one bright Wensday morning i was at school, someone came up to me and said "Your such a SLUT!" and im just sitting there with my stumach tighting and my face turning red. I went to the bathroom and cried until the bell rang, so i was crieing from 6:30 till 7:00 thats a long time. After that i went to class with tears going down my face, and everyone was staring at me like there was something wrong with me like i was nothing, they all had a disgusted look on their faces. Thats when i started to tell myself that "i wasn't good enough" that "theres something wrong with me" that "im not pretty, or beautiful." The next day was even worse, my bestfriend or boyfriend wouldn't talk/look at me the whole day. Someone was talking about me but i didn't know! I didn't tell my mom, teachers, or princible. Because i didn't want them to call my mom. I was getting bullied for 4months, and didn't tell anyone. I started cutting in March. I cut until June, because it was getting easier for my mom to notice my scars.
If your wondering im in 7th grade and i cut last year too.
You never fully know somebodies story until you get to know them, just like you dont know what a book is about until you read it,
Don't asume you know something about someone until you've heard/ read their story.
