Yesterday, I got into an argument with my mom. It was stupid….me not wanting to go to a party for my oldest brother’s bitch Girlfriend. The anger from that plus all of the anger and rage that has been building up lately caused me to snap. I locked myself in my room and started cutting. My mind was blank. It was strange….like an out of body experience. I KNEW I was cutting. I was watching myself do it. And yet….I also didn’t know. Until I actually got on the phone with someone. That someone got me to stop. But I wasn’t really feeling the pain or noticing the blood until I stopped and it hit me what I did.
I woke up this morning very upset. I had hit my arm on something next to my bed and I just lost it. I started crying so much. I decided I needed to talk to someone in my house. So I didn’t have to completely hide it. This brother is a lot like me. We have similar religious beliefs. We like a lot of the same stuff. We HATE a lot of the same stuff. And he’s willing to hear me rant.
I had stayed up on the phone with the friend that stopped my cutting until about….6 because it’s his birthday. I fell asleep and woke up around 1pm today. I texted my brother asking if he was home. He said he would be home in about an hour. When he asked if I was okay and I responded “not really” he said he was leaving the gym and would be on his way home.
I planned in my head what I wanted to say. I said it over and over to myself. I wanted to say each aspect of what I needed. No matter how much it scared me. Or made me cry. I followed him to his room when he got home and I broke down. He got me to sit down. After making him promise not to yell or get mad….I rolled up my sleeve.
107 visible cuts. I probably have more but some weren’t as deep so I don’t see them. I counted as many of the red ones as I could. he let me rant for a good hour about how unhappy I am. How alone I feel. How afraid of myself I am when I cut. I talked about a lot. I talked about how I felt our parents weren’t really listening to me like I needed them to. That I have had times where I’ve been suicidal, and even thought I knew my family loved me, I didn’t care how they would feel if I ended it. I told him it was scaring me that I felt I wasn’t far away from that. That I know that if I ever really think about it and just don’t give a damn that they will miss me terribly….that I’ll do it.
I talked about so, so much. He talked about some things trying to help me. Saying if I ever felt I was going to end it to call him. That he actually stopped a friend of his once. How a friend blocked all the doors to his place, so my brother had to climb onto the room and get in through a window to stop him. He is willing to not tell my parents and made me promise that I have to talk to SOMEONE if I ever feel that way again. Then he went to the store and got me a good bandage that will cover my cuts.
I know I don’t always appreciate my family sometimes. And I was absolutely terrified to how he would respond. But I honestly feel it brought us closer together…..and I am unbelievably lucky to call him my big brother.