well.. hi, this is my story and well i hope someone reads it
hi.. so, i want to tell you my story, is not one of the most cruel stories because is not, but for me..well i’ll just tell you.
since i was in kinder my classmates used to make fun of me.. i don’t know why, they were just mean, but i didn’t care, we were kids and well i used to be kind of mean when they called me names, in prmary school i was called names like the daughter of wolfs and monkey, they made fun of me, but i was like “who cares, they’re just being dumb” i never thought this was going to hurt me.
in fifth grade a priest called me hairy witch.. yeah a priest in my catholic school.. that’s when things got bad..the “hairy” jokes got worse, i had no friends, my entire generation hated me, when i was in sixth grade on my graduation day a girl came to me and told me that she would be happy if i died,well i just felt like i was sad… really sad but i just cried, i never thought that i would end like i am today.
in 7th grade my classmates grabbed my note book and drew boobs all over my notes and well i didn’t do anythig, i was just scared.. they called me names again, they hated me and they did bets to get to be my friends and then tell my secrets.
then 8th grade came.. this year changed my life, well this is where my nightmare begins. my classmates stil hated me, my momo told me several times that she was going to transfer me to another highschool (only if i had listen) i told her no, i thought i was going to be ok (lie). a guy made a bet to make fall for him, i trusted him, i really liked him, i was 13 i was dumb, he knew all of my secrets and fears… i thought he was going to be my boyfriend but no, the day i told him i liked him he just laughed and left me, i was heartbroken but i got friends, it was so cool, they came to my house, we had fun, i was happy, they called me lesbian, they called me concha peluda (that means hairy pussy) they called me like that because one of my “friends” took a naked pic of me when i was changing to my bathing suit one day, the called me wig, they called me the girl with the moustache, it was horrible, they pushed me and this one time when they pushed me i hurt my ankle, i ended up in the hospital, they used to steal things from me, they throwed things at me, my dog died (she was my first pet and i loved her), my dad had to go to an emergency operation because he almost got blind, we didn’t have money… i was called the poor girl.. then again, i hated my body, my looks, myself.
things got worse, they started to bully my older brother, that was the thing that killed me.. my brother is the nicest person inthe world and he doesn’t deserve it.. and well i got bad grades, my brother wasn’t the same happy guy i knew, my dad’s surgery didn’t work so he needed like 4 more, my history teacher bullied me, cousin itt, and useless student.
then 9th grade came.. i found a group of friends… real friends (at least that’s what i thought) my “best friend” was anorexic and she used to cut, i helped her.. but we ended being anorexic together, i started to cut, my mom didn’t realize because she was taking care of my dad (his surgerys didn’t work) my brother got into a private university.. my mom was paying is university, my highschool and my dad’s surgery’s, and we didn’t have money… i lost 20 kgs and i was 14…. i didn’t sleep and my grades sucked.. it was ok.. no one was calling me names, well for a while, suddenly they came back, and they were worse.. i just “ignored” them (i cried myself to sleep every night… i was alone) that year wasn’t so bad..
then 10th grade oh my.. yeah it wasn’t a good year, as soon as the classes started the names came back, but well i was 15 and things got more personal, they yelled at me, they punched me, and well i liked this guy and he liked me back (he really liked me..) but when his ex found out that i was the girl he liked she decided to make my life a living hell, she was just so happy making me miserable, and making me cry, she was just mean.. but this day i woke up and told myself i was going to eat, i was not going to cut anymore, i was going to stand up for myself.. i came to highschool and i well my rebel side came out, i started to drink.. a lot, i smoked and i was going out with random guys… the girl that didn’t want me with her ex started to yell at me… and i got mad, like really mad and yelled her back, but my come backs were very hurtfull and well i’m a very physical person.. i ended in the principal’s office, the girl that never does anything hit her classmate and almost breaks her nose.. they didn’t punished me but i was warned. I continued behaving like an asshole (sorry for my words.. this are the only ones that can describe me) and i failed my 10th grade… my dad was so disappointed and he didn’t talked to me (finally the last surgery worked so he could see) but well, my family never noticed that i cut myself and starved myself.. i changed highschools and well i was depressed for several months but i was not cutting because my dad and mom got me a psychologist and she told them i was depressive and i had anxiety attacks, i didn’t tell her about my eating disorder because i was working on it, well i took anxiety pills and some light antidepressives, my second time doing 10th grade, i made friends, i smiled a lot more and i was actually happy, from time to time i used to have anxiety attacks but i could control them.
well my senior year was pretty awesome, until i was in a love triangle.. and well i got out of it.. i graduated and i was really happy. but i stopped taking my meds…
the this year came, everything was ok, but well it came again like an old friend, depression is here, i’m cutting again, i hate my body, my personality and i just hate myself, i’m not sleeping, the voices in my head are getting worse, i’m not eating well again and i’m just miserable, my dad isn’t talking to me again, my mom doesn’t want to buy my pills and my brother is just playing video games, and i’m here, locked in my bedroom staring at my laptop… and when i go to college i feel like i want to run infront of a car and just die.. i’m not happy, i feel empty, my scars are getting worse, i’m trying to stop but i can’t… i just want this to end but i know i can’t let my depression win… so yeah
that’s my story, is not pretty and i’m not happy but i’m trying to move on… i’m trying
things that i skipped:
1-i’m 8th grade i saw a classmate jerking and i have a trauma with dicks…
2-right now i have 2 best friends that are helping me a lot
3- my family realized that i cut myself and they didn’t do anything about it
wwell…. this is goodbye, hahaha so i hope someone read it, and keep your head up, don’t give up, you are someone special i love you and i don’t even know you :) byyeeee
I couldn’t imagine my life without my friends. We have a very close group of a few girls, and recently one of us has started cutting. Nobody knows why, but all we know is that we love her, and we care about her, and want what’s best for her. Recently, after a few months of silence, she came out to our group. We are so proud that she realizes that she cant trust us, and that we’re here to help. To show her that we’re not alone, we’ve all drawn butterflys on our wrists. I love her so much, and I could never imagine my life without her.
This is my story.
So it all started last year. I went through some tough times and it all atarted to get worser and worser. For the first time in my life I self-harmed. I nevder new how great it felt to do what I did to myself. I felt as if everything had just gone away like that. It was really odd but then one day after another the cuts kept building up and up and up. It got to the point where the school forced me to tell my own mum which terrified me so much. I never thought it would get to that stage but it did. Then after I had told my friends and my now ex boyfriend that I had cut myself they started to treat me differently. My friends started to leave alone wondering what I did wrong and my ex boyfriend started to spread rumors about me after we broke up. My parents weren’t very happy about what I had done but supported me fully through out it all. I have just started highschool and I thought everything would be different. I thought I could started new and forget about everything that had happened. Then everything just got worser and worser. So far this year I have self-harmed four times and twice I have carved words into my body. People called me emo so I took that upon myself to carve into my hip. Just the other day I wrote Not Good Enough into my theigh. My friends have been telling me to start the butterfly project but I was just to scared. But today I am going to start. I have over 56 self-harming scars on both my wrist and legs and I am still letting a heap heal up. But I just want to say thank you. This butterfly project has all of a sudden given me hope. So thank you so much.
Lily Rose xxx
Butterfly Project Days One And Two
Day One:
My friend Bradley and I decided today that we need to seriously stop our addiction.
What is the addiction?
As much as it pains me to admit it, it’s cutting.
I’ve been at it for a few months now, and it has turned into a legitimate addiction. We decided to do the butterfly project: we drew butterflies on each other to signify the start of it. We can’t cut the butterflies. We’re drawing new ones every day.
I’m posting my progress on here so that I can’t turn back. Everyone knows, so now I can’t back out.
Wish us luck.
Day Two:
Added a new butterfly to the family today.
I haven’t been able to throw my blade out yet, but considering it’s the second day, I don’t expect myself to show such valor.
I haven’t used it, but I keep it on the edge of my bed and just hold it sometimes.
I haven’t cut with it, though.
Hopefully I’ll be able to throw it out one day.
I’m recording my progress each day.
I’m really thankful for the butterfly project <3
So my story’s not much I guess, but I felt like I had to share it.
I was pretty happy before my mum got worse while in hospital (she had cancer). She eventually got worse and passed away, which of course was horrible and upsetting. I’d found a friend on the internet by then, Lyzz. We grew really close, and she became like a second mother to me. However, she passed away a year later (Lyzz had blood problems), and that’s what triggered off my cutting. I cut all over the place, my legs, chest, arms, wrists, feet, everywhere. Everything got even worse though, another friend of mine, the same age as me (12) passed away from cancer. We were pretty close, though we hadn’t talked in a while. After that, I started to completely lose it. I cut deeper, and I cut more. I also attempted suicide at least two times a week. Eventually, I ended up lying to close friends about serious things. They all believed me. When I admitted it was a lie, I lost all of them. But recently I’ve gained a few back… My cutting continued to get worse, and I’d usually stay home from school due to the pain. I never really washed the cuts well at all, I let them get infected because I wanted to die. When my boyfriend found out I cut, I had a huge break of depression, which caused me to cut some more. Not long after though, I started to get a little better. Until today. One of my closest friends has committed suicide, and I just lost it. I decided this was the day I was going to end it all, end the pain, all of it. But I stopped myself because I’d push all the pain I felt onto others. Instead, I just carried on as usual, wearing the same old mask I always had. I was talking to a good friend of mine on a chat site, and she brought up my cutting problem, and gave me a link to this tumblr. I think the butterfly project will help me recover, for sure. I’m doing this for my mum, Lyzz, Poppy, Megan, and everyone else who cares about me.
And, that’s about it ;n;
