So after the whole hospital mistake, I of course cut after things settled down. Just a couple lines near the top of my legs and that was only to get it out of my system, because I totally had the intent to stop. I really can't think of another reason that I wanted to stop besides I wasn't ready to die after that.
I started looking into reading the bible and stuff. I really did think that God gave me a second chance because I have no idea how I got the courage to stop or do anything I did. It still confuses me. So yeah I tried to read the bible and become more religious, I got like 3 bibles for Christmas because I told my family that I believed in God now. The rest of my family doesn't believe. Religion was never talked about growing up so as I was trying to do this I had no idea what to do or how to change my life. I felt like I was doing everything so wrong. It's harder than you think to just up and change your ways of thinking after not thinking that way for 16 years.
When I went back to school after Christmas break I was let down so bad. Because I really did want to change my life for the better but I noticed that no one around me changed. Obviously they had no idea about the shit that I had just been through. I told absolutely no one. Not one friend. Still haven't. And everyone treated me the same, no one cared about my feelings and it was just so hard to think about myself positively when no one else cared. Everything simmered down and eventually went back to the old ways.
I struggled this way for a couple of months, then my dad started going away every weekend leaving me alone. By this time I hated myself again because I just felt so ugly. I have always felt ugly but it blossomed more by this time and I needed to do something. So when I was home alone I would go on binges. Then I threw everything up. I did that every time I was alone for a couple months. Then I had a couple months when I stopped doing that, I am not sure how or why but I didn't do it anymore and I was neutral for a couple months after that.
Over the summer I lost a bunch of weight because I hardly saw any of my friends and it was easier to stop eating. When I look back it confuses me to see how much weight I lost in about 2 months because its way harder now. But thats besides the point.
I went back to school and started cutting again. I again felt more mature and new things were happening to me and I liked those new things. I was finally talking to all these boys and I would totally fall in love with them and it would turn out bad. My friends were peices of shit to me and I just took it because I had nothing else. I went back to the only thing I knew, the only thing that made me feel good because no one in my life was ever trying to make me feel good. No one ever cared. I knew that once I started cutting again I wouldn't stop, because there was no way in hell that I would put myself through the shit I went through last year. I would kill myself before that happened.
So heart break after heart break happened and every time a new guy would come along I would use it as a chance to think that maybe this one would change my life. I would stop cutting for them. They would understand. But that never happened and I was falling into a deeper mess that I had no idea how to get out of.
I stopped caring. I didn't feel right. Some days I felt nothing at all. I didn't think I belonged here. There was no purpose, there were no dreams, I felt lost in some cerebral nightmare and I didn't even want to get out again.
I was talking to a friend, one who is really spirital and stuff, about my boy problems and how I thought I was absolutely worthless without them, I don't understand why these things don't work out, how bad could I be? She told me that before I was ever going to be able to love someone or be loved I needed to love myself and find out who I truly was (which I had no idea who I was at this point). So thats what I did.
I went inside myself to find some sort of peace. I stopped cutting because I didn't have the urge to anymore, like I litteraly tried but I couldn't do it because I did nothing for me. And I found God again. I looked for myself and found God. Things automatically got better, I swear. For months I was so good! I was actually happy with myself.
(I know there is a lot of people out there who don't believe in God but this is what happened to me and I even though you might not think He was behind any of it, I know he was. Don't think I am preaching or anything because I wouldn't do that to anyone)
Happiness doesn't last long. I hated my self again. Started binging and purging, starving, absolutely disgusted in myself, thinking there is no other way to be happy again.
If it isn't cutting, its an eating disorder. One or the other. I can't ever be happy for long.
And here I am.
And everyday is a struggle. Everyday I see my scars, everyday I fight with myself to not start cutting again.