I don’t know if anyone is reading this except for me but that’s okay because I don’t know if I’ll keep this up for long. I thought this would be a good way to vent, share opinions, and talk about my life without being judged cause lets face it, the world sucks now-a-days.
So yeah, I’m not even gonna give you my name because the idea of being totally unknown makes this feel like I have more freedom. I’m 23 years old and live in Canada where yes, it is actually snowing right this second. After about 5 years of post-secondary, I’m almost finish. School is probably one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, not because of the content, but because of me and my messed up self. Don’t worry, I’ll explain this more.
For the last I don’t know how many years, I’ve been battling with depression and anxiety and have only really been getting help for the last 2. I only got help because someone very close to me finally convinced me that I needed it. I thought I was so good at hiding all my emotions, and I was.. for a while. I thought I could just handle things on my own and it would eventually go away, but no, it only got worse. I still don’t think I’ve even come to terms with it yet, I’ve just accepted the fact that I know i’m weird and different.
Everyone keeps asking me what’s making me depressed and I keep giving them the same answer, I don’t know. Because I don’t. This started when I was about about 17/18 years old i think. High school had been rough for me but I got through, but once i stepped into the real world something in me changed. I began feeling lonely when I had lots of friends and even a long term boyfriend around. I wanted to be social but at the same time wanted to be left alone. I would go for drives and just sit by the water, listening to the saddest songs on my iPod and just cry. The crying made me feel better. Like i had released all those emotions i had bottled up through the tears running down my cheeks. Once they stopped, I would drive home and pretend like nothing ever happened. I did that for a while and it helped. I also used to go kick a soccer ball around behind a school in an empty field, again with headphones in and released the tears and anger i had. One of those time I say on the climber that was there and took off my shoes and put them in my bag. In my bad I had a little emergency kit i guess you could call it (soccer emergency that is), hair ties, tape.. you get the picture. In that bag i had a pair of scissors (before you ask, it was to cut the sports tape). I took out the scissors and just stared at them. Held them in my hand and played with them. Running my finger along the open blade just enough to feel it but not cut the skin. I ended up trying this against the side of my leg but this time i pushed a little harder and it started to pull back skin. I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I wasn’t even really trying to hurt myself. I was curious at what people were talking about when they said they felt relief from cutting. I also didn’t want the marks because then people would ask questions so i needed to be careful.
I pulled out a pen cap that was in the bottom of the bag. and started to scrape at the pointy end with the scissor to make it a little sharper then what it was. Satisfied, i put the scissors away and slid the cap along the same line I had been working on on my leg. This was just enough and make a deep enough scratch that you could see the blood, but it was still just under the skin so technically i wasn’t bleeding. I have no idea why, but this actually made me happy. Seeing the line, touching it, feeling the sting if i pushed my fingers against it. This day, this is the one when i realized things were starting to change.
To this day, I have a number of now visible scars on my right wrist that remind me of all my past problems. I still have an issue with cutting. All this time using a sharpened pen cap except for the last time i did it. I used a small pair of metal nail scissors. Realizing that I had once against escalated… it scared me.
Like many people with the same issues, I’ve been to the psychiatrist, and have tried more drugs and mixtures that are suppose to take away these feelings, or at least help. I’ll eventually get more into that too. At night i take sometimes take sleeping medication that puts me in a very strange state before i fall asleep, and that’s when i tend to do my writing. Hopefully sharing with the world my story, it will not only help myself but maybe someone else? Either way, if you found this page, and made it through the reading this far, then there is something on your mind. But then again, isn’t there always?