“My Story”
Posted by failedsurvival
I guess I should tell you why I hate life so much.
My parents are very religious and ever since I was little the tried to force it on to me. But I never really believed in god. I went along with what they did but eventually I stopped. What is the point in pretending to believe in something you don’t? Ever since then my parents have been really hard on me about everything. I guess thats when I first started cutting.
My parents eventually got angrier and angrier with me. My dad would yell at me for pointless things. And of course I spoke back, because I don’t let anyone walk all over me. They told me to get out of their house so many times. but they never really did.
I got into drinking at partys first, but than I became friends with people who drank alot so I joined them. Being drunk and not giving a fuck is the best. Naturally I even started drinking alone, because it was that much fun. I’m not an alcoholic because if I wanted to I could go long periods of time with it.
I started doing weed regularly in grade 9. You feel so hyper and happy and its just the best feeling. I did it with my friends most of the time because my city is all pot heads. Any where I went I could call up a connection and get some. I started doing it before school by myself because I loved the feeling. I was even high for an exam. I was high all day, and almost everyday. Get high on the week days, get drunk in the weekends.
While I had drugs and alcohol I didn’t really find the need to cut. And I was so embaressed about it too. Because in the summer before grade nine my life went bad. And I cut like a mother fucker. I had cuts ALL OVER my body. They didn’t really fade either, and when someone asked I would make up some bullshit story.
There are time invetween that when I wanted to die still. And I even tried. I popped so many pills I was puking my guts out the next 2 hours. It was shitty, but I did it again and the same thing happened.
Last year I guess my parents had enough and tricked into moving. What I mean is they said we were going on vacation and they ended up staying. So for a year I haven’t had any friends. I had no one, because even my parents didn’t care.
So I started cutting again. ALOT. I cut almost everyday. My arms are covered with scars. And no one near me cares. They have no idea what they did to me, and they don’t even care.
I thought not going to school in the begginging would be a good idea, so my parents would maybe go back for my education. But they didn’t and by the time I realized that, it was too late. So I’m a year behind in school.
One day I just couldn’t handle things and I cut and cut. I bleed all over the floor becuse there was just too much blood. I didn’t get hospitilized and I didn’t get stiches but I did wake up with blood all over me. Do you know what my mom did? She told me to clean it up.
So yeah, I do hate life. And it’s almost impossible for me to go back to my friends. They won’t let me leave. And I can’t just runaway. I would have no where to go. I find the best solution to this would be suicide.
