hi! I don’t even know who I’m talking to I mean I highly doubt anyone actually sits here and reads other people’s entries but I’m gonna write here anyway because it makes me feel like I have someone to talk to. it’s not that I lack friends or anything I have amazing ones that I’m sure would listen to me if I told them I wanted to talk but I cant/don’t want to do that. it’s a weird thing I’m really scared of making things about me because I feel like that makes me narcissistic and selfish which it probably does that’s why I’m here. It’s a diary entry basically but instead of writing I type because writing makes my hands hurt lol. As a matter of fact, just a few hours ago I wrote a 4-page long entry because I was feeling kinda shitty and I’ve been hearing since 10th grade that journalling can be a healthy output for your emotions when you feel anxiety. I’ve actually been journalling since 7th well not journalling per se but I wrote a few entries in 7th because why not then it become so that I sometimes wrote when I felt overwhelmed and I needed to let something out but I had no one to talk to, which again I’m sure had I asked for help or for someone to hear me out I would have gotten it but I’m scared to come off as attention seeking so journalling definitely seemed like the better option.
Let me introduce myself, I’m Annie I’m in the 11th grade, science student, I think I have anxiety because I have recurring panic attacks from time to time, I have phases where I’m good and phases where I’m bad and right now I’m pretty sure I’m getting back into the bad phase. Where do I begin, it basically started in 7th grade, not the anxiety but the cutting, I found out my friend was harming herself which was supposed to be a terrible thing. Still, she told us in a way that seemed like she found it cool to do that and because of that I found it cool too so I did it, turns out I masochistically kind of liked bleeding. I didn’t cut myself for no reason, or so I told myself, I made up reasons or made a big deal out of really tiny things, I was your typical “fake depressed emo teen” only I took it a notch further by harming myself which seems so stupid and fucked up now I was absolutely brain dead to have done that and I had really shitty influence but what happened, happened. Moving on, I stopped all of that crap after my mom found out. The day my mom found out was because she’d yelled at me for something really shitty and it hurt really bad for some reason and i cried a lot that day, maybe i cut myself for real that day i don’t know i mean i don’t think i blamed myself for anything i just wanted my mom to pity me yeah that’s probably it. I cut pretty deep that day and for some reason i told my sister and she told my mom they thought i was being dramatic which i definitely was, fast forward 8th grade nothing happened i was happy and all until my co-ordinator “caught” my then boyfriend and I dating. She made us write letters and I apologised in the letter but she misinterpreted certain things in that letter and because of that all of my then-teachers thought of me as a shitty student and my math teacher made me stand up in between class and said, and i quote “I know what kind of a student you are” which is quite possibly the worst way to embarrass a student. I felt dirty after that even though i had done absolutely nothing but hold hands with the dude. My co-ordinator picked on me twice after that in that year, one of those times she made me leave the class in the middle of an exam and accused me of bringing my phone, I told her I hadn’t and that she could check my bag but she refused to she kept busting my ass until i started crying and had to go to the washroom where i had a panic attack. I felt like a bad student and dirty in general because they all made me think I’d done something so terrible that I deserved to be embarrassed in front of the class and to be picked on like that but which adult in their right mind would screw with a student like that. It got so far that my 4th-grade hindi teacher pulled me aside one day during lunch and told me “I know you’re a good student, these things happen it’s okay”, I really think she’s an amazing teacher she actually came up to me a few weeks ago and said hi to me. If only all my teachers were like that.
But that’s not when the self-harm started again neither did the anxiety. It started a bit late into 9th grade during online classes, I think I had too much free time to myself to think and overthink about things which really fucked with me, but I really got into the 8th-grade crap, by now I think I only had panic attacks and the self-harm started towards the end of 9th. By the beginning of 10th, this was still happening and I was in a really bad state but I started talking to my 8th-grade boyfriend again, I’ve actually known him since 4th grade but we started dating in 7th, broke up in 8th, didn’t talk in 9th and started talking again in 10th. A few months in I told him about my situation and he actually ended up being really really sweet and helpful and then we started dating again. He helped me work through stuff but I can’t say it was all that healthy. I stopped cutting because of him and he was there whenever I needed to talk but I became so dependant on him that whenever we had a fight I felt so incredibly guilty for even annoying him when he’s helped me so much. It took me a long time to grow out of that but I eventually did. However, because of him I did tell my mother about my experience with the 8th grade teachers and she really comforted me.
What I haven’t mentioned yet is that my mom is a really good mom but when she’s mad she can say really terrible things, she’s called me or implied that I’m a slut more than once, she’s said I can’t study for shit and all that crap despite me having told her that the things she says can be hurtful and when it comes from someone so close to me like my mother it stings even more. I almost know for a fact that she likes my sister more than she likes me which I don’t mind. My dad hit my sister ALOT when she was my age and younger so I understand the natural instinct my mom has to give my sister what my dad didn’t give her as a kid you know but what I hate is when she’s mad she usually only targets me and then sometimes my sister adds on to it and when I react to this and cry or have a panic attack or whatever they talk behind my back about me getting a therapist. The thing is I know she doesn’t hate me but when she’s mad she says such terrible things I don’t understand her, she really does care for me but I don’t know if she loves me. Whenever I bring these things up she says “If i didn’t love you would I buy you this or that” but she doesn’t understand I really don’t care about her buying me stuff, if she’d just stop saying those things about me. Whenever she does that I overthink and I cant stop myself, I start thinking she hates me and my sister hates me and both of them think I’m useless and a disappointment which I know isn’t true but I can’t stop myself from thinking that. I don’t know for sure but I think because of the reaction I’ve developed to her saying those things about me, I now have the same reaction for her scolding me for the tiniest thing. Just yesterday she and my sister were yelling at me for something that indeed was my fault but for some reason I had a panic attack because of it and today my parents were fighting and I felt so uncomfortable in my chest that i left the house but as soon as i came back i had the same feeling. It was the shittiest kind of panic attack where I know I’m panicking but I’m not shaking or even crying I just have a shitty feeling in my chest and my breathing is different. I had to force myself to cry which made me feel better then i wrote an entry in an actual diary and now I’m here.
This obviously isn’t my complete life story but it’s basically everything I wanted to say and it feels so fucking good to let it all out.
Think I’m gonna sleep now its 2:41 am fuck.