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I was in 7th grader when I started cutting. My brother’s best friend at the time was like family. We had known him since I was in preschool. He and my brother went to high school together, and they got into drugs. His friend got all twacked out, and he would spend the night at our house. He would come into my room while I was sleeping, and I would wake up from someone touching me, but no one would be there. |
They got a job together, so he was spending every night at my house, and every night for a month he would sneak into my room. One night he came in and tried pulling my pants off, but I woke up and he hid by the foot of my bed. I knew this because I could see him in the reflection of my glass door. He started opening something, so I turned on my tv and flipped through channels. He went away. I hadn’t told anybody because I was always too scared.
I finally told my mom, but I didn’t tell her I was cutting. It had gotten out of control, and I looked at my arms and just said Wow! Why am I doing this? I stopped for a long time…until I was 18 and had my abortion. Then I started up again. But my boyfriend got me to stop. Now when I get mad I either hit my punching bag. If I’m not home, I have a hair band on my wrist and I snap it.
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