I Feel Too Much...

by Felicia
(Chicago, IL USA)

I was 10 years old when my mother asked me if I thought she should divorce my father. I didn't know what divorce was. After she explained it to me, I thought about everything that had happened in my ten years of life. There was a thin wall between my mother's room and the one my younger sister and I shared. I heard her sobbing every night that he didn't come home. My father was a drug and alcohol abuser. That, in turn, also made him emotionally and mentally abusive to myself and my 4 siblings.

I knew sadness all too well. I told my mother if she loved him, she should stay with him. I knew that's what she wanted to hear, but my 10 year old heart wanted him gone. I was always a great kid, very happy, top of my class, funny and popular. Everyone expected the very best out of me, especially my mother. When I was 14 my grandmother was dying. I adored her. I had a puppy love relationship that had very mature issues I didn't know how to deal with. Everything piled up on top of each other caused me to explode one day. I felt extreme sadness and anger and didn't know what to do. I went into the bathroom with a knife late one night and cut my wrists until I didn't hurt inside anymore. All of my pain became physical and that was a lot more tolerable. Ever since then every time I felt overwhelmed by life and my whirlwind of emotions, that is what I did. Even after being caught by my best friend and prayed over by 3 pastors at church I still cut my wrists when I couldn't take life anymore.

Today I am 20, soon to be 21. It had been over a year since I cut. That changed yesterday. I've been in 2 relationships over the past year. The first one failed because I didn't feel he loved me as much as I loved him. He mistreated me. He was emotionally, mentally and physically abusive. I had to get out and I did. Then prince charming came along and swept me off my feet. Only turns out he was more like prince I'm gonna lie to you about the smallest things and drive you crazy! I lost it. I tried other outlets like writing, and music worked for a long time. Nothing helped yesterday. I had a breakdown and grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen. Cut myself 4 times. I wasn't crying anymore though and I felt ok.

I hate cutting. I hate what it does to me mentally and how it affects those closest to me. I now have this secret I have to hide when I just want to scream and get help! I know that I let my anger get the best of me too often but, I don't know how not to get angry and how not to lose it. I just want help. I want out. Not of this life, out of this mess I seem to have gotten myself into again.