When I was in year 8, I sat by myself, in the library or the toilet to eat my lunch, because I didnāt know how to talk to people or make friends, so I sat on my own every lunch listening to happy music to try to make the thoughts stop āweirdā āloserā āfatā āannoyingā.
When I was in year 9, I made some friends, they were nice people, they made me feel wanted, until I met this girl who cut herself, she would hide it under her jumpers and I would occasionally see it when her sleeve would move. The next day I tried it, and again the next, and the next and the next. But I knew I could stop it. I had control.
When I was in year 10, I stopped eating my lunch because I was scared people would think I was fat, so instead I sat in the library again, trying to distract the hunger pains through music. My arms were already scared, and they still bled every night. But I was still in control.
In year 11, I took some pills because the boy who said he would love me forever left, it didnāt work, so I tried again, 8 times in total. When it still didnāt work I took a razor to my neck, and had to wear a scarf everyday to hide it, I wore a jumper everyday because the cuts on my wrists still ran red through all the bandages, I ate once a day because even though I would faint from lack of nutrition I still thought I was fat. I was placed in a hospital. But I was still in control
I would be in year 12 now, but I left high school, and moved on, I still cut myself, but I can stop it now, but i have the urge to do it everyday, I eat more now, because they threatened to forced feed me, but I still lie about how much I really eat. I donāt take too many pills now, because I remember my mother crying on the phone when she was away and I was rushed to hospital after another overdose. Iām in control.
But Iāve never really been in control.
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