Yesterday morning I had a very stressful morning. My mom and I went to the ortho and when we started going home my mom started to get really mad at me. We had a big fight and when we got home I immediately slipped into the house and up the stairs into my room. It seems like I have mastered this technique lately, slip into the house and up to my room unnoticed. Anyway, the first thing I did once I was in my room is go straight for my tools, but then, when I was holding them in my hand I remembered my promise and I flung them across the room (I’m serious, I did) and picked up a book off the floor and started to read. I was in mid-pharagraph when I realized that it was one of the Christian books my mom has been making me read cause I’ve been “getting distant from God” . Well I never was close to him anyway! I’d always had my doubts about him which were proved true when I was 10 and 2 years later I started SI. So I was reading this book and it was weird cause it felt like there was someone in my room and they were just there and it comforted me for some reason and my stress seemed to melt away and my need to injure was gone. I threw down that book and grabbed another one. I wasn’t reading about God anymore! I couldn’t take it. I remember when I was really little and God was my “best friend” and I would always pray to him to keep me safe from nightmares and such, but then I just stopped believing. I still had hope that maybe he would come through, but he didn’t. So I gave up when I turned 12.
What happened to make me start to stop believing in God? That was when my parents started to beat me when they got angry. It didn’t happen often and never has, but still. No parent should do that when they get mad even when they only do it about once or twice every two months. They’ve never layed a hand on my sisters and my sisters never notice when they hear me scream and then yell “I HATE YOU” I guess sometimes I get jealous. I hate it when they hurt me and I hate explaining to my friends or boyfriend why I won’t sit down and where that bruise came from and why my tailbone is sore. And it doesn’t happen often enough that they get concerned. Sometimes I wish my parents would do this more, cause then maybe I’d be able to tell someone. I get really mad about this, but my control is slipping big time and It’s only been 2 days. I’m going shopping today and maybe that’ll cheer me up. I feel like running right now cause when I run I think and it also seems to take away some of the pain and it calms me.
Wow, I’ve never been one for venting, but it’s like this site makes me pour out everything I’ve ever kept locked inside. I think that I’ve needed this more than I realize and it’s not like I have anyone who’ll listen to me and who I trust enough to tell.