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  (#1 (permalink)) Old
Welcome me, I'm new!
Screaming.In.Silence's Avatar
Name: Laura
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Location: Naples, Italy.

Posts: 8
Blog Entries: 2
Join Date: May 19th 2010

I don't know. - May 22nd 2010, 08:22 PM

Here I am.
I'm new here.
I don't know why I'm always pointing this out..oh, well.
Don't really know where to post this..it's about death, grieving, depression, self-harm, suicide and eating disorders. Yeah, I'm reeeally good, aren't I?
I think I have to say everything from the start to say what I'm feeling right now.
Two years ago, my grandma died. She had been ill for a long time, she couldn't even recognize me, and that hurt me a lot, so I had stopped going to see her.
She was the only one for me, when I was little. My parents worked all day, and she was there, loving me, hugging me, helping me with everyday problems.
I wasn't a good child, though. I have never been grateful to her, until she got ill..and then I never had the chance to tell her how much I love her, and how much I have to thank her.
This is the point when depression exploded, we and my psychologist have understood.
But that monster was already there...I have always felt alone. In some way, I've never had a real friend, someone that I can always talk to, that I can always count on..someone who knew everything about me.
I think this will look kinda like the story of my life, but I have to tell, I need to spit it out, things I can't tell to te therapist, things I'm ashamed of.
So..When I was in primary school, my lovely cousin founded a club against me. Never known why. She just hated me, and I started hating her back. But she was the cool girl, you know? I wasn't what you would call thin, I wasn't really beautiful. She was. She had all of her friends, and I had none. None of the members of the club would talk to me or let me be their friend. I was invited to partys just because at that age, moms do the invitations. I was so shy, and I was afraid, and I was lonely...but in some way I could still find happiness. I never talked to my mother or my father, or even my grandma, about this. Not even to the therapist. Even then, I felt like there was something wrong with me. Why couldn't I have a friend? What was I doing wrong? Was I wronged?...Am I wronged?
So that is the start. In secondary school, the club ended, but there were always the same people around me. So, in the end, nothing changed. When I went to high school, I met some girls, I let myself hope, think that we were best friends..but in some way, they became best friends, and I...I was just the second choice. Again, and again. So, when my grandma died, it all exploded. My feeling different from the girls of my own age, my feeling wronged, strange, unwanted...it all exploded. I started feeling worse, and worse..the pain ripped me apart, in millions of little pieces, and I struggled to find something I could go on for. I couldn't. Some days, it felt like I would have done anything to escape the pain..and it started. I remember the first time, I was freaking out during one crisis, I was home alone, and i banged my head against the wall. Physical pain. A pain I could control. A pain I could choose to inflict myself, a pain to forget the other overwhelming, destroying pain. It obviously got worse. Soon I needed more and more pain, like a drug. Maybe because the pain inside me was growing...maybe everything is a circle. But one day, it was too much. I was in the kitchen, I opened the drawer with the knives, I took the most sharp, and pulled it sliding it on my skin. Those red tears, those were my tears, my pain, my destruction going out, leaving me...it felt like that for minutes, til I decided to stop the blood. I didn't know what I was falling into. I searched for an escape, and I found another hole. In some months, I started cutting at least three times a week, and one year after my grandma's death I was in my worst period. Suicide thoughts took control of my mind, I didn't know what to do, where to go, I knew it was bigger than me but I was terrified to ask help..in the end, my friends and parents discovered it. My friends tried to stay with me, my parents sent me to a psychologist. My psychologist. But I felt it was all so useless. I saw me, dying, while my friends lived, laughed, smiled, loved. And I couldn't be the same. I am fifteen outside..but I feel dead. It felt and feels like I will never be like the others. I will always have problems with everything. This september, strangely I went through a better period. Don't know why, but I stopped cutting, and just..did other things, less distructive. Then In november, it all started again. In January, I was worse than ever. I had interrupted the therapy in September because I refused to think it would get worse again, though I knew it.
The 5th of February, after 5 months I wasn't cutting, I collapsed. I just collapsed. My mother was out, my father was sleeping on the couch. I didn't now what I was doing, but i remember the pain, I couldn't breathe, think or do anything. I felt I was dying, torn apart, ripped. I went to the bathroom, I took my father's new blades...and did a mess. If my father hadn't find me, I don't know where I would be now..He found me after don't know how much time, laying down on the floor, and took me to the hospital, where they gave me 16 stitches on both arms. I was semi-unconscious, i don't even know why. My father said it seemd I was under drug effect. That night I let me go..I let me go and I wasn0t able to care about anything. It didn't start like suicide, but while I watched so much blood, I thought..maybe this is going to end, maybe I will die and never feel pain again..maybe I can end all this.. The day after I saw my parents' faces and expressions..I let them down in a hard way to imagine. They were scared, and worried, and angry. Still, they couldn't understand. No one could. They thought I was looking for attention. Attention? Dang it, when the only thing I wanted was to be free to end everything without having someone I would delude, or hurt. Back to the psychologist..and this is where my eating disorders started. I think it is just another way of self-harm, after all. I started to feel heavy, too much heavy when I just wanted to disappear..I HAD...HAVE to be thinner, and thinner, and thinner. But I haven't much will. I lost 3 kg in a week and a half, and then I started to eat a lot and purge. Didn't eat-ate-threw up. I started self-harming seriously punching myself and piercing myself with needles, deeper and deeper...then I found the way to talk with my psychologist after all that time, maybe I became aware, somehow, that if i kept going like this there was no coming back. I told her almost everything. She gave me pills, three different medicines, and I slowly started to feel better..Now i take this pills, and feel kinda better. It's a strange better, a void better, a better full of fear of when I will fall the next time. I don't know if I'll ever be okay, if I'll ever be..normal. I wanted to share my story, even if it isn't an example, if it is bad. I live in fear and confusion...and I need someone I can talk to..or I'm really, really afraid I will go back in the hole. I'm losing my balance, and I'm terrified by myself..

Sorry if i wrote all this, I didn't even wrote all that I wanted..for your luck, i guess, it's so much to read..
And sorry if there are mistakes, english's not my first language and I'm quite unstable right now, I feel like crying...

"There are invisible suicides. You stay alive for pure diplomacy, you drink, you eat, you walk. The others always fall into the trick, but we know, with an inner laugh, that they're wrong, that we are dead."

"Remember...whatever...it seems like forever ago.."

I still hope. My hope is a frail, pale, sweet creature, and is slowly dying. Hanging by a thread. Just like me, after all.

  (#2 (permalink)) Old
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I've been here a while
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Age: 27
Gender: Male
Location: United States (FL)

Posts: 1,048
Join Date: March 31st 2010

Re: I don't know. - May 22nd 2010, 10:51 PM

Firstly, welcome to this website. It is a good thing that you opened up to us on this forum, and that you are seeking help for dealing with your feelings. No need to apologize at all for making a long post, detail is important when it comes to best targeting your problem so thank you for going in-depth as far as you did.

I used to feel lonely a lot in the same way that you do now. I never had friends during my childhood due to bully problems. I had also been devastated by the loss of my grandmother as well when she lived with me and my mother in her final years of life, when she too forgot who any of the family were due to dementia. Everything seemed to be closing on me too, just as things seem to be closing in on you, and sometimes I had suicidal thoughts as well. However I never acted on these feelings.

You feel this way because there seems to be nothing for you, that there is nothing to live for. But actually there are many things to live for. You will find friends. You will find something that makes you happy and allow you to see the value of continuing with this life. Just go out and look for it, in a nice social spot or look up groups of people that share the same interests as you. Don't get up. Things will get better. They did for me, they will for you too.

Last edited by FlyingTrue; May 22nd 2010 at 11:29 PM.
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  (#3 (permalink)) Old
Welcome me, I'm new!
Screaming.In.Silence's Avatar
Name: Laura
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Location: Naples, Italy.

Posts: 8
Blog Entries: 2
Join Date: May 19th 2010

Re: I don't know. - May 25th 2010, 04:48 PM

Hi, thank you so much for answering..
I'm really sorry you felt the same way I did, and experienced actually almost my same bad experiences. But I'm glad you never actually acted..I think this helped it not to get worse.
I know ther are things to live for, it's just ..ME the one that doesn't fit in all this beauty. There must be something wrong with me. I try to repeat myself that I will, will, will..but the future looks so unbelievable, so covered by fog, like it's not the real me the one who I imagine as doctor, as a grown-up woman, happy and okay with herself. I feel like I'm not good for this life. I'm not good enough, or strong enough. Even if I try my best, there's always something that I do wrong, or that I don't do. Everything I dream, will always be a dream for someone that's not me. And I can't change this..maybe this monster I am right now is who I can be, in my greatest option. And I hate it.
I have "friends" with my same interests, but I can't be close to anyone...and no one seems to be able to be close to me..

"There are invisible suicides. You stay alive for pure diplomacy, you drink, you eat, you walk. The others always fall into the trick, but we know, with an inner laugh, that they're wrong, that we are dead."

"Remember...whatever...it seems like forever ago.."

I still hope. My hope is a frail, pale, sweet creature, and is slowly dying. Hanging by a thread. Just like me, after all.

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