Welcome To Hell Part Two

My childhood wasn’t a very good one. Having to deal with my father’ s suicide, and the sexual abuse I suffered made things worse. I remember I was always in trouble, at home and at school. The teachers did not know what to do with me, either did my mom. I was just so full of anger. I was a bully. As far as my sisters are concerned, I got along with them pretty good. We were very close in age, so that may have been why we got along so well. I mean of course we would have our spats, but we always made up. Now the neighborhood I grew up in had a lot of kids my age. That kept me busy. We would ride our bikes, or go down to the community pool, play football, and play games. But I could never bring myself to tell them about my abuse. It was something I wanted to keep locked away, but this would prove to be damaging as you shall see. I was full of guilt, shame, and confused about my sexuality.  To this day, 32 years later, I still have these feelings.

 

At the age of 13, I started to cut. I would cut my arms up pretty bad, and a few times I had to get stitches. This behavior is still with me to this day, but I have gone  4 months now without cutting. May not seem like a long time to you, but for me its a big step. The temptation is always there, especially when I am shaving, but somehow I have been able to overcome it. Cutting for me was like a drug. Whenever I would feel hurt, depressed, and angry, I would cut. I cannot explain it, but it was pure bliss. The pain felt so good. It was like instant gratification. I would even feel high after cutting. Also seeing my own blood flow down my arm was a high. I know this sounds pretty morbid, but what can I say? Obviously every time I cut, it would freak my mom out. Then I would be committed to the Hospital. I remember the first time I was committed, practically the whole 8th grade class showed up to visit. The Hospital staff did not know what to do with all of these 8th graders. It did feel good to have so many friends show up. But more and more when I was committed, the less visitors I would get. It was like they were used to me being in the Hospital. I don’t blame them. When the depression got to a point when the meds were not helping me, they did not know what to do. Then they decided to try shock treatment. I won’t go into detail right now about the shock treatment, but I went through it for about 17 years. It was an on and of kinda thing. They were convinced it was helping, which convinced me, but I really wonder if it did more harm than good. I know my memory is shot. There are things I cannot remember. It was my short term memory that was impacted. I told myself I will never put myself through that again.

Well that’s all I have to say right now. I hope if you are considering cutting yourself you will think twice. It’s just not worth it. Take it from someone that knows. Thanks for reading, and stay strong!!!

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