InsightA Story by .:forget-me-not:.
some of my history~ I wrote this once ...but it apparently didn't go through...'sigh'
I was four. At four the world is still innocent. The scariest thing were the monsters that we thought lived under our beds. But, the reason we stop looking for monsters is because one day we finally realize they aren't under our beds. They're inside us.
My dad left. I'm not sure what really happened the details always change. All I know is the day he walked out is the day my life changed. I waited for him to come back. I was his little girl. But he didn't. I cried for a week. Cried myself into some exhausted oblivion. Physically I came out of it and moved on with my life. Mentally? I have yet to wake up.
My sister left her senior year. Wanting to find a physical escape for the pain she was feeling. She was also 'daddy's little girl'. Drugs, alcohol, boys. Anything for that temporary escape. But, in the end she came back.
Maki, was the best damn thing to touch my life. (outside of my family). She taught me how to laugh and to live. She was dating my dad at the time. But fate has this way of pulling bullshit hands on you. She died in a head on collision coming home from a town near ours. I lost my best friend that day. And I dissapeared back into my oblivion.
That was the year I first tired to kill myself. I was only 13. And luckilly, I learned how to smash down the pain the tears and screams. And I learned to do this really fake smile and laugh. But, who can complain they bought it.
Until I turned 15. That was the day I was going to kill myself for good. I couldn't do it anymore my fight had left me. I had just been raped by my best friend. (well ex best friend now.) I don't say this because I want pity. I want you to understand what drove me to the edge of my life. How was I going to do it? Nothing to glamerous unfortuantly. You see I was standing in my kitchen with penisillian in my hand. I'm deathly allergic to penisllian (spelling). And, my step dad had to take it for his medication. I could feel death tugging up my hand. I was more than ready to obey him.
But magically my friend appeared. Fate pulled another trick card at the last given second. I'll never underestimate women's intuition. How she knew I was going to kill myself? I don't even know. I never announced it I just decided. But, look I'm still here. (Well most of me.)
So, I started cutting. Not because I wanted attention. No, I'd go more dramatic for attention. I just wanted something to relieve the tension in my body. I remember the first time I cut. I was scared there was so much blood but soon the numbness took over. And, I began to realize why people cut. They don't always do it out of love of the pain. It's the numbness afterwards that silences the screams.
I was 16.
17-18 I began drinking and smoking cigarrets and cigars. Never smoke it's a bad habit. I smoked a hookah and even took indirect hits off a pipe. I still have yet to actually smoke a pipe. Not sure if I ever will. I've seen what it can do. But, as I was once told.."Just get it out of your system now..." Drinking I still continue to do when possible. I'm also trying to cut that habit. I just want an escape from the monsters inside me.
But now here I am. 18 years old and still by some damn miracle still breathing. I'm happy, though I've met some great people. I'm not suicidal not anymore. I still have the thoughts trust me they dance about in my brain. Will I act? No, because I want to see where my life story will go. But, it's hard when I can't attatch myself to any male. Because, as you have read from previous experiences I found they can't be trusted. Tragic. Someday someone will prove me wrong. Still waiting on that person they are taking their damn sweet time.
Here I am. 18 years old. And you've been opened to parts of me. Hope you feel satisfied.
© 2012 .:forget-me-not:.
A peaceful town with peaceful ppl who r filled with violent rage. <3, MT
AboutIf you saw into my mind you'd never recover. more..
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