the slaughter of my demons and dragons - Part 3

By poppybreath · Dec 30, 2014 ·
  1. Thank you, I try hard every day to use that bravery to my advantage. It's so hard leaving this all behind but I want to live. I want to help others. After this all happened to me recently, and I thought I was invincible, I know drugs can just really destroy who you truly are as a person. Letting drugs, people, addictions of any sort, take your life over is just a way of commiting suicide slowly, in my opinion. I knew I was hurting my bodly severely, I used to not eat for days, not sleep for days, shoot up, snort, eat anything chemically intoxicating that I could. I cannot just stand by and watch other people lose extremities because they were so delusional they never thought their teeth would rott out of their head and they'd get a really nasty infection that'll cause the need for amputation. This shit will eat away at your bones, if you do what I did for a long period of time, you're guaranteed exposed bone and a hole through the roof of your mouth. It is terrible watching someone do that to themself, and I've seen how drugs tear families and lives into shreds, then burn the shreds. It'll take everything from you that you had ever thought you could maintain through your addiction.

    I've been a cutter, a burner, anorexic, bulimic, suicidal, arrested, overdosed, assaulted, acquired stds, had abortions, held captive against my will, raped, escorted, abused every intoxicating chemical my hands have met, abused those intoxicating chemicals in every way of administration that exists, I was a nymphomaniac - it was a form of self-harm and hiding my feelings, tried about everything I could to slowly kill myself and make others feel what I felt. I've tried about everything I could to make a quick buck and that meant signing my life away and handing it over to others to help me slowly commit suicide.

    About two weeks ago I couldn't have typed any of that without crying and going into a panic attack. I am still so scared of judgement, but am slowly starting to care less, as I judge myself less...I think self-loathing and mental illness lend themselves to drug use. My self medication started before I knew I was bipolar. But when I finally was diagnosed with it, about 6 psychiatrist later, that helped me understand why I was a self-harmer. I still didn't full grasp what this was going to turn into, and had so much self-hatred i really couldnt have cared.

    As for why I moved out:
    I'm the middle child out of three. My life as a child was a rollercoaster, one minute everything would be awesome, the next there are objects flying into walls and people screaming. My parents spoke to me about a possible divorce between them as long as I can remember. My mother is the one who, in particular, questioned me constantly about how I would feel and who I would go with if she and my father separated. By the time I was able to fully comprehend this, I told her I just didnt care anymore, I was emotionally numb to it all, or tried to be at least. My sister and brother moved out of the home, and my father moved out as well when I turned 15. He couldnt deal with all of the fighting, so he bought a trailer and moved 30 minutes away into the middle of the woods with our family dog. I rarely saw him after that. My parents used everything I had done that worried and inconvenienced them as an excuse for the seperation of households. They remained married. Now, my mother is the first person who ever assaulted me in the name of keeping me with them. I tried to leave at 16 to go to my soul-mates house, my mother and I never got along and had been fighting as usual. She called the cops as I was yelling at her to just let me go. She grabbed me as I walked toward the door, and tossed me toward the couch. I punched her in the jaw and she then jumped on me and held my face into the couch until the cops arrived. I stopped trusting her and stopped living there after that.

    I moved into an apartment when I turned 20, stayed there a year and a half, then moved back to my mothers for a few months, then found a duplex, then had a mental and physical breakdown and moved back out into the middle of nowhere.

    I keep trying to forgive my parents for my childhood. I'm just so hard headed, and I have to learn the hard way...I used to like hurting myself, so I couldn't just burn myself once, anyway. I was an irrational, rebellious kid who thought the world was against her.

    I want to remain sober and never use drugs again. I want to continue my job dog training. I want to help people stop abusing themselves through self-harm.


To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!