Annabelle’s Story

December 3, 2015

I had a friend who recently struggled with depression and recently attempted to commit suicide which was unsuccessful. I helped communicate this to her mother. She told me about it, about how she was struggling with mental illness. There were 6 months of her struggling with cutting and on May 6, which was on a Thursday, she attempted suicide. And I got a Facebook message at 5 in the morning and it was like her last message.

Afterwards, she was in the hospital for about a week and then they sent her to St. Anthony’s which was like inpatient rehab. Then she went to Timberline Knolls and it’s also where Demi Lovato and Kesha went. And then she stayed there for most of her summer. She came back in August, it was super stressful. I was worried, so I was like, “Ok, I’m telling your mom,” and then she blackmailed me that she would tell my mom that I was also going through the same things that she was. We didn’t want them to know.

I would cut myself. Well, I didn’t necessarily want to die, but it was a way of, not necessarily killing myself, but in a way. It started off as a whenever I was sad, but then it got to a numb feeling so it just happened almost every night, but then it kind of simmered down summer before sophomore year. Then it peaked a lot after winter break during sophomore year. It was a lot of seeing others being completely fine and then being like, “Why am I different?”

8th grade was when it started. At first it was occasional, and then it became an everyday thing. Then I came to Clayton and I was sad because I didn’t have any friends. People were different at Clayton. Once I started making friends, the cutting became a “something bad happened, oh no” kind of like a random break down. It was just an occasional thing.

What I’ve found this year, that I’m kind of emotionless. I’m not sad, but then I’ll just have a random breakdown where I’m crying for no reason. Then, I’m like, “Can I just get high?” I don’t know what it is, ever since I’ve been better, I’m not necessarily sad, but I’m not necessarily happy. I’m just chilling. Drugs and alcohol are kind of my replacement sometimes. I just wanted to get high because I was sick of being sad.

I don’t really like letting others know mostly because I think they’ll be like, “oh, you’re weird.” Sometimes you get so much adrenaline from self harm and it got to a point where I thought it was crazy. Because there was like blood everywhere. And I was like, “Well shit, I’ve got to clean everything up,” because it was like a lot. From that night, I did like five really deep cuts. Lots of blood. So then I have to clean it up.

It takes away the emotion. You’re not concentrated on how sad you are, it puts your attention on something else.

My first [razor], I don’t know where the f–k I found it, but then there were two other ones. I got two razors from my Dad. He fixes up apartments, so he has razors for cutting cardboard or wood. I got two from him. I only used one and I gave one to my friend. That’s how bad it was with our friends. It was a fucked up relationship we had she was like, “Hey do you need a razor? Do you need gauze tape?” and I was like, “Yeah, pass it over,” and she was over at my house one time and I was like, “Oh, dude, jackpot with my dad, here you can have one.” Not a great relationship. It was three of us.
My room is completely separated from my parents and my parents just don’t come upstairs. It’s just a matter of hiding the cuts: long sleeves, band aids.

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