It's Life.
Growing up I was surrounded by drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. Most times, when a person grows up around these things they satrt to abuse them as well. But that is the complete opposite of me. i mean, of course I experimented with smoking cigarettes, and took a few sips of my parents drinks every now and again when they weren't looking, but I never felt the need to do it on a routine basis.
I've never been into the whole drug thing either. I never liked the feeling of inhaling the smoke, and above all it made me stink. What's the point of that? The one drug I did toy with was pills. Whatever I could get my hands on to make me sleep for a long time, I would take. And if the first pill I took didn't do anything, I would just take more. That only lasted for a couple months though, so I'm pretty sure I'm over it.
When I was 17, I got drunk for the first time. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I am a late bloomer. I just never saw the point in getting drunk before that. I don't really remember anything about the night, other than it was at a party, of someone I despised at the time mind you, and the liquor of choice was vodka. (Useless information time: I learned earlier this week that vodka is made from potatoes. Weird!)
Nowadays, I only drink about once a month, if that. After getting caught by a school janitor, because my friends and I were getting drunk at an elementary school playground at 11 pm on a school night, my perspective changed a bit.
And that's the end of my substance abuse story.
In grade 8 I was a happy, go-lucky girl with friends that meant the world to me. But then high school started. There was one boy named Derek that would tease me to no end. I knew that I was never the best looking girl in school, but I was definitely not the ugliest girl either. So I never understood why Derek chose me to make fun of and be mean to ALL THE TIME. And I know that when you're little, your mom tells you that when a boy teases you it means that he likes you. But Derek made it very clear to me that he did not like me, and I was fine with that becuase he was the biggest doucher ever.
On top of the whole mess with Derek, I lost my best friend Patrick that year. He started hanging out with different people, and never seemed to have time for me. And that upset me. At this same time, I had no idea where my very best friend Nicole was, and that upset me more than anything else. I was pretty much left on my own.
I became severely depressed at this time (this is also about the time I started taking the pills). But when the pills stopped having any affect on me, I started a new form of self harm. Around the middle of my freshman year I started cutting.
At first it was because I wanted to make sure that what was happeneing was actually real, and not just some terrible dream I was having. But after that first cuut I made, I liked the feeling of the blade across my skin, of the blood as it dripped down my arm. So I did it more often. Some days I did it about four times, and when I ran out of room on my arms, I started cutting on my legs. I was pretty obsessed by this point. I think it was more of an addiction than an obsession, but I'm not to sure now. My addiction was driving me further away from the friends I still had and my family. So I promised myself that would stop. In April of 2008, it had been one year since I had last cut.
But that didn't last very long. Every once in a while I would get really stressed or anxious, and I would cut. It was nothing major though.
Lately I have been having the strongest urges to cut. It's not because I am depressed or anything. I think it's just because I miss the feeling. And in my opinion, scars are sexy. All my old scars have faded, and I feel that by doing this I am makng myself more attractive. So, if you haven't guessed by now, I am cutting again.
I realize that I have a disorder, but that doesn't bother me. Cutting makes me feel good, and that does bother me. I don't know if I will know when to stop, and that scares me a little bit.
A while ago I was talking to my friend's mom about college. She asked me what I am majoring in, and I told her that I wanted to be a psychologist. I don't know if she was joking or not when she said this to me,
"There must be something wrong with you then. The only psychologists I know are all crazy."
but I think now I'm starting to understand what she meant.
I've never been into the whole drug thing either. I never liked the feeling of inhaling the smoke, and above all it made me stink. What's the point of that? The one drug I did toy with was pills. Whatever I could get my hands on to make me sleep for a long time, I would take. And if the first pill I took didn't do anything, I would just take more. That only lasted for a couple months though, so I'm pretty sure I'm over it.
When I was 17, I got drunk for the first time. I know what you're thinking, and yes, I am a late bloomer. I just never saw the point in getting drunk before that. I don't really remember anything about the night, other than it was at a party, of someone I despised at the time mind you, and the liquor of choice was vodka. (Useless information time: I learned earlier this week that vodka is made from potatoes. Weird!)
Nowadays, I only drink about once a month, if that. After getting caught by a school janitor, because my friends and I were getting drunk at an elementary school playground at 11 pm on a school night, my perspective changed a bit.
And that's the end of my substance abuse story.
In grade 8 I was a happy, go-lucky girl with friends that meant the world to me. But then high school started. There was one boy named Derek that would tease me to no end. I knew that I was never the best looking girl in school, but I was definitely not the ugliest girl either. So I never understood why Derek chose me to make fun of and be mean to ALL THE TIME. And I know that when you're little, your mom tells you that when a boy teases you it means that he likes you. But Derek made it very clear to me that he did not like me, and I was fine with that becuase he was the biggest doucher ever.
On top of the whole mess with Derek, I lost my best friend Patrick that year. He started hanging out with different people, and never seemed to have time for me. And that upset me. At this same time, I had no idea where my very best friend Nicole was, and that upset me more than anything else. I was pretty much left on my own.
I became severely depressed at this time (this is also about the time I started taking the pills). But when the pills stopped having any affect on me, I started a new form of self harm. Around the middle of my freshman year I started cutting.
At first it was because I wanted to make sure that what was happeneing was actually real, and not just some terrible dream I was having. But after that first cuut I made, I liked the feeling of the blade across my skin, of the blood as it dripped down my arm. So I did it more often. Some days I did it about four times, and when I ran out of room on my arms, I started cutting on my legs. I was pretty obsessed by this point. I think it was more of an addiction than an obsession, but I'm not to sure now. My addiction was driving me further away from the friends I still had and my family. So I promised myself that would stop. In April of 2008, it had been one year since I had last cut.
But that didn't last very long. Every once in a while I would get really stressed or anxious, and I would cut. It was nothing major though.
Lately I have been having the strongest urges to cut. It's not because I am depressed or anything. I think it's just because I miss the feeling. And in my opinion, scars are sexy. All my old scars have faded, and I feel that by doing this I am makng myself more attractive. So, if you haven't guessed by now, I am cutting again.
I realize that I have a disorder, but that doesn't bother me. Cutting makes me feel good, and that does bother me. I don't know if I will know when to stop, and that scares me a little bit.
A while ago I was talking to my friend's mom about college. She asked me what I am majoring in, and I told her that I wanted to be a psychologist. I don't know if she was joking or not when she said this to me,
"There must be something wrong with you then. The only psychologists I know are all crazy."
but I think now I'm starting to understand what she meant.
we would all be hypocrites if we said life was easy.
Thatscooliguess, November 16th, 2010 at 10:35:06pm
I actually understand. i used to cut, but for different reasons. Even though you sound like everythings under control, and you don't really know me, I'm here to talk if something goes wrong.
Lucky 13, November 12th, 2010 at 11:39:28am