Note to self; I miss you terribly

A journal style, honest piece I wrote as an essay for school last year.

I sit, the blade turning in my hand. My whole body is shaking, but it's done now. I remember that feeling, a twisted relief. I pull my sleeves down, and carry on, pretending everything's okay, even though this couldn't be further from the truth. That first time, it was hard, too hard I thought, to do it again anyway. Wrong again. It got easier, it got addictive, and my life only got worse. I had several reasons for what I did, and continue to do. I'm not naive enough to think my problems are some of the worst in this world, but I have to deal with them somehow, it's just unfortunate it had to come to this. 

I take a deep breath, and press send. I swallow hard, trying to keep it together. My stomach  churning horribly, as I wait for a reply. “1 new message” My stomach drops. 

“I do understand cos I've done the same myself and have the scars to prove it! You've not let me down! You've told me how you're feeling and that means the world to me, just like you do”. I try not to cry. My cousin means the absolute world to me, and to know he went through the same thing, makes me feel weirdly comforted. Now I know he truly understands me. The only person who really does, if I’m honest. I’m hard to get, and I know that, that's why I don't let people in, It's frustrating, trying to know me, I make it hard; unintentionally. But unlike most others, my cousin didn't give up on me at the first sight of some serious trust issues, he pushed. I told him to go away, he was stubborn. “Who you telling to go away? I'm going bloody nowhere!” I had to laugh at this. No matter what I said to him, he would stand by me. It's a scary thought but, without him, I don't know what I would have done by now. 

Somehow, telling my mother was slightly less scary, even though it was face to face. She cried a lot that night. I felt guilty, but even that didn't stop me, I was in too deep, it wasn't as easy as just stopping anymore. I needed help, I could no longer help myself. I had intended to be in control with this, unlike all the other things in my life, but I wasn't in control; the addiction had control over me. 

Christmas and the holidays came as a welcome break from the added stress of school and, for once in a long time, I was relatively content. As New Year approached, and the chance to see my family grew closer, I started to feel an excitement I hadn't felt in a while. New Year's Day, my family all went out for our usually new years lunch with my dad's side of the family. That day made me feel so much like everything could get better. I sat with my cousin for hours, and I felt totally happy, with my family all around me. That Monday, he came to visit before he left to go back to Norwich. I've never hugged someone as many times in the space of about an hour and half. As he stood up to leave, he took hold of my hand, squeezed it, and it took every little bit of strength I had to keep smiling and not cry. “You take care wee one, I'll see you sooner than you think, I love you millions.” He said this as I hugged him goodbye. And then I was alone again. 

It seemed to be, as school came back and my cousin left, the load of things the holidays had taken away seemed to crush me again. The start to the year was not a good one. School was not going well, I seemed unable to focus, and the teachers didn't understand. They never do. The weekends were short and the weeks seemed to last forever. The scars on my arms started to increase, and with each day, my tolerance for the pain in my life lessened. I had decided to go see my maternal grandmother, whom I had not seen in five years, due to her and my grandfathers problems with alcohol, which have unfortunately led to my mother, and two uncles cold shoulder. I hadn't told my mother, fearing she would not accept this decision. I stayed at my best friends on the Friday, and got the bus to Glentrool the next day, my heart beating the speed of sound the whole way. She was so happy. I “made her day”. It was great, I had made the right decision going to see her. Then it all went horribly wrong. My grandfather came down the stairs, reeking of alcohol. He didn't recognise me, even when told, he didn't know and he didn't care. It's a sad day when your grandfather doesn't have Alzheimer's, and still can't remember who you are. I told myself as I walked out of that house, I was there to see my grandmother, not him. Somewhere in my heart though, I knew I had gone to see him too, I had hoped it might change things. It didn't. I was naïve in that sense. My mother and uncles had never changed their parent's ways, why should I be able to? 

I went to see my paternal Grandmother after this. She was sleeping when me and my best friend got there, she did this a lot these days, since she got ill. When she woke, I told her about my visit to “Grandma”, as usual, she understood totally. “Well, I think you did the right thing” she said, in a very matter-of-fact way.

“Your mum will understand, it's not your fight.” I felt better knowing my Granny thought I had done the right thing. I always valued her opinion, and she understood all my decisions.  

I had been there for about an hour, and then had to go to get the bus back home.

If only I'd known then, as I said goodbye to her, it would be the last word I would ever say to her. The next Saturday my mother got the phone call, and my family and I got the words we had been so dreading. My Granny died peacefully in her sleep, on Saturday 29th of January 2011. My life is never going to be the same now. I can't bring myself to believe she's actually gone. 

My life has become one giant mess. A downward spiral into a total tragedy. The one song I keep in my head, it seems to fit perfectly who I seem to be at this time. “Note to self; I miss you terribly, this is what we call a tragedy”. I've never seen my dad like this, understandably. My whole family was hit hard by this horrible bomb, and true to this metaphor, we are all in pieces. 

I'm still in that place. That place where there's no light. Only darkness and fear. I'll get out, maybe soon, maybe not. Only advice I have is, don't start anything your body has no intention of stopping. Self harm is one of those things. Its an addiction, and once you start, it can go on forever. If I could go back, and put down that blade, trust me I would. I didn't stop when I had the chance, and now it's just another thing in my life that I have no control over. I'm getting help though, and hopefully soon I can get back to being me again, because, I miss me more than anyone else I've ever lost.