I never really liked myself, I never really looked at myself in the mirror and thought:: I am beautiful and I look pretty today. I get ready in the morning with my flawless and gorgeous sister, how could I ever match up with her? How could I ever consider myself beautiful and attractive when my sister outshines me in every possible way?
When I was in seventh grade, that was about five years ago, I hated everything about myself. I wouldn’t eat in front of people, except for family. I would only really eat in my room and when I did, I wouldn’t stop until I had something to do. That something was usually related to self injury. I started hurting myself around the end of my seventh grade year and I kept it a secret for almost six months, then my friends started to notice changes in my behaviors. Less eating, more clothes.
It took me four years to finally take a stand to stop hurting myself. I’m almost a year and two months clean and I could care less. I should care. I should be proud. But when I look in the mirror or see a picture of myself, all I want to do is control my eating somehow. More importantly, I just want to quit staying strong and fall apart and take my anger and hate out on myself in the worst of ways.
I feel so unbelievably alone in a crowd full of people whom love me with all their heart. I know I’m not alone, but I know thay everyone is done with hearing about my struggles. How can I possibly not feel more alone than ever?
I speak such hopeful words to others who are struggling just as much as I am or more. I constantly try to find ways to help others achieve what they want the most:: to break free from self injury. Why should I try to help others when no one bothers to ask if I’m okay, if I need someone to lean on?
I have gotten used to the idea of helping myself and picking myself up after a fall, but I’m tired. I’ve depended on friends for such a long time that I have to do this on my own, but when I’m alone and I can’t talk to anyone, I just want to throw it all away. Now when I say I just want someone to talk to, I don’t mean ask for advice, I just want someone to be there when I need to vent. They don’t need to pat me on the shoulder or wipe away my tears, I just want someone to know that I’m not as together as I put myself out to be.
I never really asked for help out loud, my friends just assumed and helped me in the best of their abilities. I never take much advice, never of my own advice, but others take my advice. I never really got the hang of truly wanting to break free of self injury, yet I’m more than a year clean.
I must be doing something right.