| WARNING: MAY BE TRIGGERING |
| Jen's Story |
| Well, I should start out by saying I’m a 13 year old girl from the USA. My parents got married because my mom got pregnant and 2 years later they were already divorced. After living with my dad for about 10 years I finally gave up hope of being happy. I cried night and day and never wanted anything to do with him and his messed up world. He remarried and she was as much of a nut as he is. I think the only thing I remember from my childhood at that point is waking up at night to her screaming up the stairs for no apparent reason, and moving in and out of the house, night of day, we always moved. I eventually just started to stay at my grandparents giving up my old house as my 'home' and just adapting to living with 3 old people who yell at me all the time no matter what I did or how I did it. I'd have to say I started to cut when I was about 10 (wow I guess its been longer than I thought). I first started with a steak knife. I had talked to people online about how they did it and how they felt so much better, I thought I had nothing to lose but the guilt everyone put on me. The first time I did it I didn't get much blood, just a few drops seeping out of the cut. The next time I did it with a sharper knife without the rivets and I started to feel the relief. For the first few months I did it off and on, maybe once every other week or so, then it came down to every week, always wanting it deeper, always wanting more blood. Since then I have moved in with my mom, when she found out she put me in therapy and I have been in a hospital and have been suicidal for a few months. My dad's still a jerk, I still cut, and I’m back to where I started. But that's my story no matter how boring. *<3 Jen <3* Click here to email Jen |
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