Memior

Here I am writing about my myself. Sharing my personal story, this is only the beginning.

Cutting; the urge to feel pain or feel some kind of relief. Yes; I’ve been a cutter, I have not cut for a year not, and till this day I fight the urge not too. It’s hard I know, everyday. Especially when your down and depressed. I don’t encourage people to cut themselves, it harms your body and not only your body but your heart as well. Of course when I see others cut; I feel like I should do so but instead I fight it and tell them not too. Even if they feel like their life is going down the drain, in the end fighting it will be worth it. I've been cutting since I was thirteen years old and now I am seventeen going on eighteen in January. I started cutting because my grandfather had passed away, I was very close to him and loved him so much. He was a smoker but his body was giving up on him. I remember when he told me “If something bad was to happen to me don’t cry” He said this too me a week or two before his death. I knew that he knew his time I was almost up. And he added  “‘l’ll be up there watching over you” When he first said that I didn't quite understood what he meant, until the day came. On February 25the, 2007 was the day he was passed away. I remember my mom receiving a phone calling telling her my grandfather was in the ER two days before the 25th. We rushed to the hospital and there he was on the bed ; hooked to machines. I saw him and my heart just cried. I wanted to cry so badly but I didn't because I didn't want him to see me like that; see me as a weak person. So I stood strong for him. All I wanted to do was cry in him arms, but I couldn't. He wasn't able to speak either, he was paralyzed. All he could of was blink. He was like that for two days on the third day I really wanted to say “I love you papi” but I couldn't, I knew if i were to say those words I would cry right there and then. So I stood quiet and smiled at him. On the very night of the third day as soon as I got home we received the phone call. My brother and mother were crying and I knew why. But I asked anyways. “What happened?” 

My mother responded. “Your grandfather didn't make it”

I was like “How? we just saw him about an hour ago” She didn't answer.

 I left my mother and brother alone in the living room. 

I went to my bathroom to grab a razor. Then I went to my room, at that time I had a bunk bed, I had the top of course.

I remember crying uncontrollably yet silently. I cut my wrist not to die but to feel something. I was so numb just for the fact that knowing my grandfather was gone. He was never coming back.  I fell asleep with the blooding oozing out of my skin. I felt relieved.  I felt satisfied. I felt calmer. I had no dreams that night. Nothing. Till this day; I can never forgive myself. I regret not being able to tell my grandfather how much I loved him. 

Author's Note

This is personal and I wanted to share it.