My friends wanted to know what I was thinking when I told them I injure. My sister, my life, had been put on hold, literally for 9 weeks. She was in a coma in the hospital, inches from death. I could not help her. I did not turn to God, I figured if he put her in here in the first place he deserved no place in my life, and I still believe that today. I will copy and paste my story here that I typed up a while ago and leave you to think about it and comment if you wish. Before you read, know that I did stop injuring, but these memories keep haunting me as well as others and I am feeling the need to injure again. Why??

I feel awful that I cannot remember the exact date that my sister was put into the hospital, but it was right after school started. My boyfriend of 11 months had dumped me and I was bouncing from guy to guy, trying to find someone that could compare. Each time I got a new one, it got closer but no cigar. I finally gave up, deciding that if he was stupid enough to let me go then nobody like him would be worth my time. So I started to focus on guys that seemed like a good match for me. How does this relate to Abby?

Well, you see, shortly after she got put into the hospital they put her into a medical coma so that they could put yet another useless tube down her throat. This day, my mom came to marching band and I was surprised to see her waiting on the sidelines as she had been scarcely around these past few weeks. I was so excited to see her that I ran over and I could tell she was fighting back tears and so was Ashley’s mom, Nancy. Ashley and I walked in silence out of the band room, silently wondering the same thing…What happened to Abby? Later on, my mom still was not telling me. After Ashley and her mom left our house, she sat me down and told me about the coma. Then she left for the hospital and it killed me, absolutely killed me seeing her like this. Not eating, not sleeping, and I thought if she is giving up food and sleep for Abby then I should too. I stopped sleeping and my appetite grew wary. People saw me getting skinner, and the bags under my eyes getting bigger. I would draw people in hospital beds on my notebooks. I could no longer stand to see the people in my family hurt, so I decided to hurt myself. Bad idea, but at the time it seemed to be my only way out. Now, throughout all of these boyfriends that you teased me about, I was not really searching for companionship but more like someone I could rely on. Little did I know that Max was there for me through it all? Now, please don’t go talking about this and don’t go saying stuff that you know is not true.  I don’t want this to be talked about outside of here; once again this is for your knowledge and your eyes only. If I wanted everyone to know I would have done an announcement over the intercom.

I continued to injure and I told little people about it, they begged me to stop, get help. I told them “This is my help; if I can’t help Abby then I will do this until I can.” Nick told the counselor thinking it would help. I remember that day, we had State the next day or something like that and we were practicing on the field from 3 until 6. A lady came up to my Math class and I scowled at her, not knowing it was the assistant principal. Moments later my own personal counselor came up and took me out of class.  She talked to me about what people had told her, and about how people who injure wore sweatshirts and long sleeve t-shirts as I had been doing. I told her that rumors were overrated, but she wouldn’t get it through her thick skull. Finally, they called my mom and made me go to the Funny Farm. Yes, the hospital downtown. I was tested and poked at. They couldn’t leave me alone in a room because they thought I might try hurt myself.  I’m going to spare you the entire story because it’s not necessarily important. 

I was miserable for the next couple of months, no statuses on facebook had one smiley face and I wouldn’t talk as much. I didn’t care what I looked like, so I often came to school in sweats.  My friends basically gave up, or so it seemed and I continued to bounce from guy to guy. I was trapped in an endless cycle and it didn’t look like I was going to get out of it anytime soon.

Now, to the God part of all this. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me “God will get you through this” I could drop out of high school right now. I don’t believe it.  He put my sister in there, he made me feel this pain, and obviously he does not care. My friends knew how I felt and they understood but they wanted me to let him in. I refused and still relied on my own methods. I hated God and all that he had done. I wanted to stop believing. I now am out of that stage for good [we hope] and I do not hate God, but I do not love him either. Don’t judge me on this.

Now you can judge, let me know what you think.

**Nick is a good friend of mine, Max was/is my best friend and my boyfriend now. Ashley is my best friend, but I’m loosing her.