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Self Harm If you or someone you know is struggling with self harm and needs advice or alternatives, we're here to help.

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  (#1 (permalink)) Old
Spyk Offline
I'm One Hell Of Puzzle.
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Name: Raye (or Spyk)
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Location: Anywhere?

Posts: 4
Blog Entries: 1
Join Date: March 25th 2011

Post My story-Self abuse, drug abuse, and Thank you. - March 25th 2011, 07:45 AM

This thread has been labeled as triggering by the original poster or by a Moderator. Please take this into consideration before continuing to read.

I just wanted to share my self harm story sort of on here. It may be triggering which is why I stated so.

I was 11 when my dad was sent to Iraq. I remember my mother being a wreck at the airport. she was tryin to be strong for my dad and for my two younger siblings (who at the time were 6 and 4). She was trying to be strong for me. I didnt cry. I have been so used to him leaving that when he left it didnt mean much to me. I knew he'd come home in a year. No big deal.
My mother comes from a family of alcohol abusers. Her uncle, father, and now her brother are all alcoholics. It runs in the blood.
She started self medicating with alcohol. It was painful to just see her with a glass of Jack or wine in her hand. As the year dragged on, my brother grew annoying and my mother began to beat him. At first it was the belt, just a usual spanking, accepted by most society.
They graduated to an abandoned boat ore she found in the garage. Later "The Rod" <<the name they gave it>> broke on my brother's bare ass. he was 4.
I heard him screaming upstairs. Thats when i started cutting. It was October 2006. I had a really sharp piece of scrap wood broght in most likely from my dog's long scraggly fur. As unsanitary as it is, but i just went off. I kept scraping it across my left forearm.. not even checking if it was bleeding. Thats when the numbness took over. I couldnt feel the pain. There was over 50 new red welts on my arm. This started the 5 year almost 6 year battle with self injury.
I gradually moved on to safety pins, plastic knives, steak knives or any sharp object i could get ahold of.
Eventually my dad came home. and announced that we were moving to Kuwait. <<A middle eastern country south of Iraq>> and we dropped our life and moved. I started self medicating with random pills i would find on the counter... that along with extreme jet lag, allowed me to sleep. I slept for days. Not eating. Thus starting my Anorexia issues. At one point I was so low I was cutting whenever i could and vomiting every meal. If not every meal, then i would vomit dinner. Many times i considered hanging myself from the ceiling or any other place. and then came depression and Bullimia.
Before I go into that though I would like to add that before moving overseas we had to go into a psychiatrist office and get mentally "checked out". The lady said that I was borderline depressed. Which we now know wasnt borederlining anything. It was full on Bipolar dissorder.

The Bullima and Anorexia stayed for a year. A friend found out and talked with me, she really helped me out. and that ended.
I still continued to self injure.
The summer before we moved back to the united states My brother broke our big tv. My father bruised him all up down his back... and just the screams that broke out... it was horrible.
If i could take it... If I could've stood in for my brother, for my sister, each time they would get beat, I would've rather.
There is nothing worse than hearing children scream and cry.
I would hear them. and I would dig wires, needles, into my arm and rip the skin. I left a 6 inch scar that nearly hit a vein.

We moved back to the states when I was 14. still heavily cutting.. hell I cut on the plane... I smuggled a small paperclip in my carry on.
I lost my virginity that December. started the sexual premescuity. throughout all this my parents had been calling me a dumbass, a stupid, a mistake, a little shit, a brat, a bitch, and last a Whore.
Here I am 2 years later still dealin with this issue. In the past year I have tried to stop, developed a drug dependency, and an addiction to Marijuana, that I am now getting over, I was anally raped by a boyfriend whom i loved. and i am not comfortable really even talking about that. which caused my PTSD.

I would like to take the time to thank anyone who has taken the time to read all this. So thank you, for reading<<listening>> you are awesome. and to anyone who responds thank you too.
   
1 user(s) liked this post or found it helpful.
  (#2 (permalink)) Old
I Miss You Offline
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Name: Drew
Gender: Male
Location: in a dark and dangerous place

Posts: 367
Blog Entries: 17
Join Date: March 8th 2011

Re: My story-Self abuse, drug abuse, and Thank you. - March 25th 2011, 08:40 AM

Quote:
Originally Posted by Spyk View Post
I just wanted to share my self harm story sort of on here. It may be triggering which is why I stated so.

I was 11 when my dad was sent to Iraq. I remember my mother being a wreck at the airport. she was tryin to be strong for my dad and for my two younger siblings (who at the time were 6 and 4). She was trying to be strong for me. I didnt cry. I have been so used to him leaving that when he left it didnt mean much to me. I knew he'd come home in a year. No big deal.
My mother comes from a family of alcohol abusers. Her uncle, father, and now her brother are all alcoholics. It runs in the blood.
She started self medicating with alcohol. It was painful to just see her with a glass of Jack or wine in her hand. As the year dragged on, my brother grew annoying and my mother began to beat him. At first it was the belt, just a usual spanking, accepted by most society.
They graduated to an abandoned boat ore she found in the garage. Later "The Rod" <<the name they gave it>> broke on my brother's bare ass. he was 4.
I heard him screaming upstairs. Thats when i started cutting. It was October 2006. I had a really sharp piece of scrap wood broght in most likely from my dog's long scraggly fur. As unsanitary as it is, but i just went off. I kept scraping it across my left forearm.. not even checking if it was bleeding. Thats when the numbness took over. I couldnt feel the pain. There was over 50 new red welts on my arm. This started the 5 year almost 6 year battle with self injury.
I gradually moved on to safety pins, plastic knives, steak knives or any sharp object i could get ahold of.
Eventually my dad came home. and announced that we were moving to Kuwait. <<A middle eastern country south of Iraq>> and we dropped our life and moved. I started self medicating with random pills i would find on the counter... that along with extreme jet lag, allowed me to sleep. I slept for days. Not eating. Thus starting my Anorexia issues. At one point I was so low I was cutting whenever i could and vomiting every meal. If not every meal, then i would vomit dinner. Many times i considered hanging myself from the ceiling or any other place. and then came depression and Bullimia.
Before I go into that though I would like to add that before moving overseas we had to go into a psychiatrist office and get mentally "checked out". The lady said that I was borderline depressed. Which we now know wasnt borederlining anything. It was full on Bipolar dissorder.

The Bullima and Anorexia stayed for a year. A friend found out and talked with me, she really helped me out. and that ended.
I still continued to self injure.
The summer before we moved back to the united states My brother broke our big tv. My father bruised him all up down his back... and just the screams that broke out... it was horrible.
If i could take it... If I could've stood in for my brother, for my sister, each time they would get beat, I would've rather.
There is nothing worse than hearing children scream and cry.
I would hear them. and I would dig wires, needles, into my arm and rip the skin. I left a 6 inch scar that nearly hit a vein.

We moved back to the states when I was 14. still heavily cutting.. hell I cut on the plane... I smuggled a small paperclip in my carry on.
I lost my virginity that December. started the sexual premescuity. throughout all this my parents had been calling me a dumbass, a stupid, a mistake, a little shit, a brat, a bitch, and last a Whore.
Here I am 2 years later still dealin with this issue. In the past year I have tried to stop, developed a drug dependency, and an addiction to Marijuana, that I am now getting over, I was anally raped by a boyfriend whom i loved. and i am not comfortable really even talking about that. which caused my PTSD.

I would like to take the time to thank anyone who has taken the time to read all this. So thank you, for reading<<listening>> you are awesome. and to anyone who responds thank you too.
first of all i welcome you to teenhelp..*hugs tight*


oh hun..it breaks my heart to hear this story...it seems like you got the short end of the "family stick..if you know what i mean..

i can understand why you would trun to self harm because of all the chaos and the abuse ...

i just wanted you to know that you are not alone...u can overcome this..and we all will help you..

hope this helps
Drew
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