I wanted to die but im still here.

My story. i haven't wrote in awhile sorry.

I Want to Die but I’m Still Here.

I remember when I was a happy child, and how everything was good in my life. Then I also remember how everything changed. I remember my mind was full of darkness and horrible thoughts; the thought of killing my self was always on my mind. Everything just turned into a night mare. I also remember when I grew courage throughout the years of my life.

The Beginning.

After being the happy child, and having everything good in my life. I finally met depression, and I came to the problems a 12yr wouldn’t even understand. Everything started off with my family, to be more specific, my mom and dad. They were always arguing and yelling never did stop. Neither did the violence. I was always scared of them hitting me and  my  brothers. But other than that I was always happy, I thought everything would get better, but It just got to the point of their separation. It sucks that after so many years they finally separated, I got to live with it I guess.

School was my worst enemy, and still is. All it ever brought was expectations and stress. There used to be something good about school, my friends. Knowing that I could go and help them while doing my job of studying did help. They were good friends, friends that said they would forever be by my side. Everyone leaves at some point. And that’s what hurt me the most, when my five best friends left my side. Carla, Salvador, Leonel, Maggy, and Ariana left, just like if I was never born.

That’s when I grew sadness. I was always thinking that I’m not worth nothing. I felt like a piece of trash. Knowing everyone left my side drove me deep into the ground. All the problems made me lose hope and faith.

When I used to leave school I would be happy. But not because I was going home, but because I was going back to my room. My room was my own little house where I could be happy, sad or mad. With no one to bother me. I can’t really call my house my “home” because in my opinion its just a piece of hell! Once I left my dad, and went to live with my mom and step dad, I was always arguing with them. My step dad and I were always yelling, over why I got home so late, or about how I am. He would make me feel the worst sometimes. My mom hasn’t been there for me, because she always chose my step dad over us.

After I saw how my mom had chosen him over me, I grew in anger, depression, lonely, and sorrow. I felt shame of my family. I was always alone. No one understood how I felt. It was just a night mare come true.

I’m not like other kids. I didn’t go out with my friends or family. I didn’t play video games. I didn’t even eat. I was always in my room, alone in the dark. I would just listen to music (rock), lay down all day. I guess that was how I avoided the tough life I was living, at least for a short while. I didn’t like talking to people. They wouldn’t have understood my thoughts, that’s why Ignored everyone.

The “Exit”

I thought it was an exit. Do you know how it felt to always go to a razor for help? No you don’t. its very hard. I didn’t know what to do, it was a coping skill I guess. After a while I got addicted, the razor was my “true” friend.  But all I truly wanted Was to feel no more pain, no more depression. But all I got was more sadness and more shame.

Now my body is full of scars. I really do hate my scars. I can’t help but notice the bumps on my skin. I didn’t even have the courage to wear a t-shirt until I finally got courage when I met other kids/teenagers that cut themselves.

After some time my school caught me with scars, I had fresh bloody cuts on my arm. It wasn’t the best feeling having a stranger come to your school and ask you a bunch of personal questions. When they told me that they had called my mom, everything broke down. I broke down in shame and disappointment. My “courage” broke into a million pieces. I was in tears. I was crying like a rain cloud was raining.

Soon I came to the point where I had to go to a mental hospital. I didn’t know what was going to happen to me, I didn’t even know how long I was staying in there. I was scared. But then I started realizing that everything was going to be fine, that everything was for my own good. I stayed in the hospital for 1wk. I was clean for 2/3 weeks. I grew courage to stop. And I was determined not to cut.

Here we go again.

I don’t want to go back. Ugh! School was going to start in one day. And I wasn’t in the best mood to go back, I had no choice. I went and I found out I was in gifted, I wasn’t happy at all, instead I was furious. Gifted brought me more stress. After 2mnths of school I began to cut again. I thought I would give the razor another try, but that was just another mistake. My courage had grown stronger. But the feeling of cutting was so strong that it won me over.  I got caught, not once, not twice, but more than three times.

Is staying a good idea?

Everything has drove me to the edge.  I don’t know what to do, I don’t know if I should turn to the razor again, or keep on fighting. But I have so many reasons to die, but no reasons to live. Life is being very hard. And I don’t know if I should give up, or keep trying to live.

It’s no longer a question, I’m staying.

I figured I have many reasons to live. After I got caught the last time which was in February I decided that I was persistent to stop cutting, kept trying. And I’m still fighting.   My courage to live is now very strong. There’s no chance I am going to leave my life time. I have an amazing boyfriend that I don’t want to leave behind. my family has proven that they do care and that i do belong here. i may feel sad from time to time, but that's not enough to leave. if god didn't allow me to end my book before that's because my life just started and i have something better coming in the future. I grew a long trail of Courage that wont allow me to end my life this early. im here for a whole run.