I've always had to take care of myself. No one ever told me to seek help. Or that I shouldn't be cutting. They never cared enough to. My parents just let it happen. They knew for years and never once stopped me. It wasn't until i was 17 and wanting to kill myself that I sought help myself. I just wanted someone to tell me that I mattered. But I didn't.

That always gets me, I cut for years. They knew about it! They never tried to stop me. Why??? Why would you let your child cut? Why wouldn't you care enough to try and stop her, even if you failed at trying?? But to just let it continue!!!

Even today, I have to take care of myself. No one cares if my mood is swinging or I feel like cutting. I'm an adult. I've got to take care of myself. I just wish that someone cared enough to notice. I honestly wish someone had noticed when I was young. Back when it wasn't my job to take care of myself.

The first time I tried to kill myself I was 13. I had taken two bottles of pills in hopes that it would kill me. But i'm still here. I remember waking up that night with such a horrible pain in my stomach. I remember thinking "its working! just get through the pain!" and I made myself go back to bed without knowing if I'd wake up in the morning again. Needless to say it didn't work. No one ever knew about that attempt.

The second time I was on suspension in 8th grade for beating up a boy in school. I had all this free time suddenly and all I wanted to do is to hit a vein, that was my goal. I hit that vein one morning. I remember scrambling all over bleeding on everything, not being able to stop it. I bled all over the kitchen floor and i kept my wrist to my stomach because I had to stop the bleeding. It didn't work, I don't know how I didn't get caught but no one caught me. My parents walked in as i was bleeding all over my shirt, i just excused myself and ran upstairs to bandage my wounds. The bleeding didn't stop for a while, i just sat in my room holding my wrist. Eventually I went to bed with a kind of "oh well if i don't wake up" attitude - I didn't know if the cut would re open and i'd bleed out while I was sleeping. This didn't happen. I woke up and had very few times when the cut reopened and i couldn't stop the bleeding.

The third time I tried to kill myself was when I went to the top of the caesar's palace parking garage in las vegas and sat on the ledge. I couldn't jump. The cops had to talk me down. They then proceeded to section me involuntarily for being a danger to myself. I remember that they took me to a hospital in an ambulance and after I was all situated in the ER I took off with all my stuff. That didn't please the staff. The cops had to be called to go find me because I was still a danger to myself. I was walking around the neighborhood, I went to get some burger king chicken nuggets and hung out at the grocery store - i knew they wouldn't look for me there. I couldn't run forever though. So My parents eventually called me, asking why the cops were looking for me. I had to explain what I had done to them. They wanted to pick me up, so I told them where I was. My mom came and picked me up, eventually she took me back to the hospital... She had to - the cops were threatening her with jailtime for being an accomplice to my escape. So I went back to the hospital where they took my clothes and had me restrained to the bed - talk about going overboard!! It was all for my safety though. I understand why they did it.

The staff was nice enough to bandage up my cuts and give me a sleeping med, they were sick of me staring at them! I refused stitches and had them steri-strip my cuts. I should have got it stitched up looking back on it... The scar is gnarly now, its all thick and you can tell it wasn't properly taken care of.

Those are my suicide experiences. Hopefully there won't be a next time but if there is I hope to succeed.

I failed. Plain and simple. That's what I get for skipping class on a day I thought there was no class. I failed. What do I do? I failed!! There's no fixing this. Maybe I can still do history, but my spanish class is F'd. She's going to fail me, plain and simple. I wish I were dead.

I lost my left side hearing when I was 2, doctors don't know why. This has made me a shy person, because i hate engaging with people only to ask "what did you just say?" over and over. This is not my main problem.

My problem starts in the 6th grade. I wasn't like other girls. They were all so perfect and I was ugly and fat. So I retreated to video games where I was anonymous. I still do this today. Anyhow.... after the 6th grade i moved from small town iowa to big city Las Vegas.

I felt alone in a new place. I had no one to talk to, no friends, only my video games. I met a girl online who I fell in love with. She broke my heart, got me into self harming. She knows this, but I take full responsibility for my actions. It is no one elses fault but mine that I self harm. So, i'm alone the entire 7th grade, i finally get a small group of friends in the 8th grade - my cutting continues AND gets worse/ more frequent. They liked that I cut, and I was happy to oblige. I went for the entire school year with them that way. And then we all got sent to different schools.

I went to a special magnet high school for performing arts and international languages. I majored in German, but I also took spanish and honors classes. I suppose you could say that was my first experience with hypomania. I would not sleep, not eat, just do homework and german and spanish and my honors courses I was delusional, thinking people weren't real and that I was being watched by everyone. I pulled this off for 3/4 of the year, until I crashed in about January. I fell into a deep depression, the delusions continued. Failed most of my classes that semester, switched back to a regular school for 10th grade.

Back to regular school, stable...not taking honors, only taking 1 language - german. Competed in the language bowl that year - kicked ass. No friends again. I stopped going to school. Excelled in classes I didn't attend - failed due to seat time.

11th grade I went to a different school because we ended up moving to a different place in the city. We moved almost every year. My parents just couldn't make rent some months and we got evicted.
I was mostly stable in the 11th grade, not cutting. It wasn't until the 12th grade when I went hypomanic stacked up honors classes and reduced my schedule as well as took on outside independent study schooling that I crashed again. This time I went into the hospital. Met some interesting people, got out in 2 weeks after I had stabilized and not want to kill myself. I stopped cutting.
Still stopped going to school, slept in my closet for a few months. Delusions came back, refused medication. Went up and down and all around for a few years until in 2011 i tried to kill myself again, but couldnt' sum up the courage to jump 7 stories down. The cops had to talk me off the ledge. Was involuntarily committed where they threatened forced medication and to take me to court. I signed their paper stating i would take their medication - i didn't want to deal with court. Started me on abilify and trileptal, ambien for sleep. Bipolar they said. Stabilized, got out.

Took my meds for a few months until i decided i didn't need them. Did well in college with them. Got 2 B's and an A that semester. Went to a therapist that semester that talked to me about building computers and how i needed to get friends. Stopped going to him after i stopped taking my medication. Did well for a few months. Crashed halfway into the Spring 2012 semester. I'm still recoiling from it. My moods have been up and down - i've been cutting again. I stopped for 2 days so far, and i'm feeling more stable since my doctor upped my medication from 120mg to 160mg. That little bit helped so much. Now i'm just waiting for my wounds to heal.

I should be getting surgery to regain my left side hearing soon - it got pushed back a few month's because of an error in communication between my insurance and the hospital. Typical.

Thanks if you actually read this, it probably...

[ Continued ]

His couch was so uncomfortable, and i was so tired that listening to him ramble on incoherently was pure agony. I told him how on WoW i was a bear tank, and he's telling me to find my inner bear tank to protect myself. Something about choosing which wolf to feed and diaphragm breathing. Total waste of my time!!! Trying a new therapist soon, just have to make the calls when offices open up as its 3am and nothing is open right now. Soo yeah.... that was torture.