It all started when I was in the fourth grade. Seven years ago. One kid, Kennan, kept on teasing me and I just ignored him. 5th grade was fun, but my mother had cancer, which kept a dampener on things. She was a stage III Breast cancer patient, and I was getting a lot of homework as well as being verbally abused by more kids now.
Then, around comes sixth grade, my mother was close to beating cancer, and everything seemed to be going fine. Except of course, the boys and girls that thought I was “gross,” or “unsanitary,” and bullied me every day. I was worth less than the gum on the bottom of their shoes.
Then there was my 6th grade English teacher, Mrs. Kayzar. She was not a nice person who didn’t listen to me, hated me, and tried to fail me. By the end of the year, although my mother had finally beaten her cancer, my self-esteem was all but gone due to the constant teasing and bullying.
Then comes middle school. The teachers were nice and the homework was hard, but by then all 78 kids in my grade hated me. Every day, I would get stones thrown at me or told that I should kill myself by everyone I knew. By eighth grade, even the new seventh graders teased me and hated me. At the end of eighth grade, my self-esteem was gone, everyone hated me, and I was ready to break. The last day of school, graduation, was supposed to be happy, but I was teased relentlessly, and made fun of at the party afterwards.
So it was then, Friday, June 9th, that I snapped. I walked home, and my parents were asleep. I found my father’s Rifle, and told myself that I was tired of all the bullshit, and I had had enough. I was ready to kill myself. But, I found that I couldn’t force myself to pull the trigger. The only thing keeping me alive was the thought that my dog would have no idea that I’d never be coming back, that he’d never understand what happened to me. I had so much pain, so much suffering, I was hopeless and depressed, and that is when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I found my good pocket knife, pressed it against my skin, and sliced through my flesh. It felt so good, feeling the blood pour out of my body into the sink.
I continued to cut myself, and even as my parents tried to help me and find a counselor, he didn’t help at all. I continued, all to feel something, for two years. I did this to feel pain. I couldn’t feel anything, I had become so numb, and I couldn’t feel anything thanks to the bullies. At the end of sophomore year, I finally started to get better. So I thought.
Then, I asked a nice girl out, and got my dreams horribly crushed. I started texting her day and night, trying to find out why, then, in desperation, told her I was going to kill myself. I wanted her to feel for me, to feel something, to comfort me in my time of need. But, she did the smart thing and called the police. The Police busted into my house, went into the garage and stopped the car before it was too late. I was sent to the hospital and put under suicide watch. I was furious, mad that my attempt was foiled and mad that she would do such a thing. The hospital took my phone, clothes, and everything but my underwear and before putting me into a hospital gown. When I resisted, I was strapped to the bed.
About an hour later, when I had calmed down a bit, two police officers came in and questioned me. Eventually, they deemed I was still a danger to myself and put me into protective custody. After that, a very nice nurse came in and recommended her sister, a therapist, to me. Soon after I was talking to the therapist and getting somewhere, but it wasn’t enough.
Three months later I talked to my doctor, and got myself prescription Antidepressants, which I’m still on to this day. And to this day, I am glad that I didn’t commit suicide. Even though the times are still tough, I am glad that I am alive and able to function. A word of advice; don’t hold it in. For your own well-being, don’t hold in all of your emotions. I did, and now..... Now I cannot feel happiness anymore. Now, I need Anti-Depressants to feel anything but pain. The receptors in my brain are damaged. No matter how much I try, I cannot feel happiness. So please, for your own sake, don’t hold it in.