I battled with myself for years some know about this. But many don’t.

A few years ago I was in a very bad place in my life at that point in time.

Nobody knew about it. It got to the point Id rarely get out of bed,answer my phone

Or talk to others. I had my window covered with the darkest curtain or blanket I could find just to block out the sun just then I wouldn’t see the light.

Some days were better then others and I didn’t know what to do. Who to go to.

It got to the point of self harm.

After the passing of some relatives, people coming in and out of my life, being bullied, going through break ups I thought I wasn’t good enough for anyone to stay.

Cuts down my thighs and arms watching the blood run down my arms or legs.

I thought it made me feel better but it didn’t.

It didn’t solve anything except made me feel something else for a moment.

I started dating a guy who was older than me. He was my best friend before we dated.

He didn’t know about any of it. Despite the fact I would usually tell him everything.

I kept this big secret from him.

One day we were hanging out and it was summer so of course I had shorts on. Not thinking it would show my marks.

He seen them and immediately asked

  “What happened to your leg?” “Did you do that to yourself?” He asked

 I told him the truth.

“I did it and I don’t want to hear a lecture about it.” I said

   Yelling he said “ Why would you do that yourself and you shouldn’t do that?” “How long ago did you do that?”

    I said “ I start before we started dating”

      He said “We have been dating for almost over  a month why am I just now finding out?”

   I started screaming. “ Because it wasn’t any of your business and it doesn’t affect you. I did it to myself and I will live with it. This isn’t your place to yell at me. I did it. Judge all you want but I did it to myself to feel the pain of something else for a moment.”

He simply said “Okay I got to go on a walk i’ll be back.”

I left before he came back later on he texted me and he tried to help to find me help.

I didn’t want to be helped and it resulted in us breaking up.

I turned it into something it wasn’t he just didn’t know how to react.

He never dealt with something like this.

For months I didn’t want to be helped.

I wanted to hurt myself and I did.

I didn’t tell my parents for a long time not until school started. I didn’t ever get the chance to do it when I wanted to. When I felt the time was right.  I said something to a teacher and I knew my parents were going to be called. Which at that point I thought it didn’t help when I did it and that it only made matters worse.

After my mother got off the call with the Principal. My parents took my razors, knives anything I could hurt myself with for about a month

I ended up resulting in trying to find ways to temporarily harm myself somehow.

Make every other problem go away and only be focused on the pain at that moment

I would punch walls until my hands were bruised and bloody.

Snap my hair ties or rubber bands on my wrists until my arms were purple and it hurt to touch them.

I didn’t actually get help or open up to any one until around thanksgiving.

I opened up to one person and only one told him all the things that had happened and

Why I felt the way I did.

He talked to me. Didn’t judge me. Tried to help.

When he and I stopped talking it was a few months of me being semi- ok

Before things started getting dark again.

I don’t think I was actually ever truly ok. I needed to find happiness in something

And i wasn’t finding it anywhere.

I found it..

My sisters kids.

Helping raise them always being around them helped. I realized that not everything is dark.

When things started getting bad I went to see them and I felt better.

There were still bad days. But never so bad it got to the point of self harming again. I was in a dark place

In my life and was having problems getting out of it.

But I did.

From the help of others and myself.

From the man who talked through my problems with me for hours on end

Didn’t matter the time. Late conversations. To me calling him in the middle of the night

Because I wanted to harm myself

To my parents taking things away

From spending time with my nieces and nephews

To drawing pictures and writing stories that were dark.

From getting help.

To starting to be okay again.

I let this part of my life take up almost 2 years of my life that I won’t ever get back.

This part of my life happened when I was 13. Months after my 15th birthday in the spring when the snow starts melts and the weather starts getting warmer. The time when a lot of people are the happiest is when my last relapse happened I went through a rough time. Not as bad as before. Not resulting in harming myself. But helped myself through it.

I am 16 now it's been almost a year since.

3 years since it was at its worse

Bad days come and go.

But I just remember just because it’s a bad day today doesn’t mean

Tomorrow will be the same.

I have opened up to others now.

My sister knows everything.

My best friend does too.

Now my scars are fading.

My life is getting brighter everyday.

I have bad days like everyone else I just push through

And remember if I fall back again it takes a lot to come back from it.

I don’t think I would be the person I am today If it wasn’t for that time period of my life.

Always remember that it’s just a bad day or week or month it doesn’t mean it is a bad life.