It's okay, I'm alright

By , Upton, MA
I could start out my story with, “Hello! I’m Sharon. And my life sucks. “But, I’m not going to. Because it doesn’t. I’m happy. I’m content, now. But the past 3 years have been rough.

II was in 7th grade when I started cutting. I got sent to Guidance and she told my parents and they brushed it off as no big deal. I stopped for a year, okay. But I was still dealing with the issues inside my head. I mean, I had only done it 3 times so it wasn’t an issue to stop. My mind continued to take control of me. 8th grade. New year. New me. Now we were the oldest kids in school. I had a secret, though. And I was too scared to tell anyone. I never had a best friend, so I couldn’t gush. 2 weeks before I had gotten my first girlfriend and I was so happy. One day at lunch, my friend admitted she had a girlfriend. My face- priceless. “Ohmygod.. No way! Me too! Tell me about her” I smiled and we walked, bragging about our new girlfriends and telling juicy details about hookups.

Throughout the year, we were both struggling with our relationships- our girls had more in common than we could imagine. They both had psychological issues and cut themselves. And I had started cutting myself again, and the chain reaction happened- my best friend did too, among our other best friends. It was the “cool” thing to do- to make people feel bad for you and to be “depressed”. My relationship with Cody started to fall apart, but we were convinced we were in love and were made for each other. She was bipolar, but that made no difference to me – I cared about her too much to leave her when she freaked out at me. On top of that, even if I did want out of the relationship, she threatened to kill herself if I ever left her. Basically, I was trapped. I was trapped, cutting myself 3 times a day, suicidal, and angry at the world. My life was in pieces. I cried constantly and smoked cigarettes and wee-d to help cope with my issues. Along came drinking and pill-popping, because that was “cool” and my older girlfriend did it. My parents had been suspicious of our relationship- and when I asked for Cody sleep over, my Mom questioned our relationship and I told her. I came out to her as bisexual and with Cody as my girlfriend. She did the cliché parent thing when their child is homosexual- “It’s okay, honey. We love you no matter what.”

Obviously I was not taken seriously and it was viewed as, “just a phase”.

Fast-forward to March 28, 2011.

My dad went through my Facebook- that’s right, he hacked it, and read all of my messages exchanged with Cody and my friends about how I wanted to die. He took my phone away after school and changed my password to Facebook. Everything was stripped from me.. I was nothing anymore. I couldn’t talk to anyone anymore- not even Cody. He told me I was to never speak to her again. He asked to see my cuts all over my body- stomach, thighs, forearms, and ankles. I was covered. Out of anger he tore apart my room and stole every semi-sharp instrument he could find while I layed on my bed and cried.

March 30, 2011.
I woke up determined. I was going to kill myself, this morning. I acted happy yesterday, but, guess what, dad, smiles are deceiving. I stole another razor blade from the garage..and ran up to my room. I cut myself so deep I woke up with bright white lights shining above me and stitches in my arm. The doctor told the psychiatrist I had awoken, and she questioned me. You know what comes next.

Life after the hospital was difficult. Recovery isn’t easy. And I struggled. I ended up getting back together with Cody. Then we broke up, got back together, and so on. I was still cutting myself. And hiding my medication under my tongue. I hated it. It made me different.. I wasn’t myself when I was on it.

July 20 2011

I knew Cody was going to be asking me to get back together with her the next day. I couldn’t take it anymore- I certainly was NOT in love with her and I was trapped in this relationship for almost an entire YEAR now- it would be on August 21. On July 20, I cut myself for the last time.

I’ve kept out of this story my struggle with an eating disorder and high anxiety and failing grades and a teacher that knew my story and supported me all year and was always there. I’ve kept from you my innermost thoughts and deepest fears and many issues that I faced as well during my 7th and 8th grade years. Because, what I feel is important is the general story. I know you’re getting tired of reading this already.

My 9th grade year I got moved to a Catholic school in my parent’s hopes of my finding new friends and getting “a fresh start” bad idea. I had half my head shaved to a buzz – a “sidecut” if you will, and I got tormented by names like “fag” and “lesbo”. Rumors flew around about me being gay. I denied them all in hopes of fitting in. In private schools, the expectations for schoolwork are raised drastically. And that means so are your parents. And you need to find a group of friends to fit into and still keep in touch with old friends and retain a social life while still keeping time for homework and projects- to say the least I was overwhelmed. I almost fell back onto cutting. Many times. But I had close friends that helped me through it. And I was put onto more medication. I still struggle with not hurting myself. I still think about suicide all the time. I’ve always been like that, I’m still recovering.

February 11 is when my relationship with Sean took hold. He’s always been a close friend of mine, and we’d had feelings for each other previously but that had ended when he chose another girl for me. February 11 I told him I had feelings for him. We had hung out that day- for the first time in awhile. We talked constantly and hung out and our relationship began March 3, 2012. Sean, I believe, was put back into my life for a reason. To say the least, he makes me happy. He’s the reason I wake up every morning and the reason I’m still alive today. He listens to me talk when I’m upset, he hugs me when I cry, and he supports me and makes sure I’m being safe and not hurting myself. I will always be grateful for what Sean’s done for me and I will always care for him as well. I can honestly say I’ve fallen in love with the boy. I can, and probably never will be able to put into words how much I care for, love, and thank him for the great life he’s given me. July 20 , 2012 will be a year since I’ve hurt myself. And when he says to me how proud he is of me for that, I always feel like I’m melting.
Sean, thank you, for everything. Really. You’re my rock. My heart. And anything I could ever ask for.





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