My name is Vanesa.I’m 12 years old and I’ve already tried to commit suicide.The first time was drinking bleach.It burned my tongue and cheeks.It was horrible and painful.
The second time was untried.I wanted to slit my wrists open.But I couldn’t.I was too scared about my mom coming in.I already knew where to cut.I just didn’t have the courage.I couldn’t do it.
I know there’s something wrong with me.There always has been.I’m too afraid to tell my parents.I’m afraid of them disowning me.I’m their oldest child.
The third time was pills.I swallowed eight pills.Nothing happened to me.I was very disappointed.
I also cut.I’ve been cutting for a while.And I’ve been avoiding eating.The body image issues are a big part of what’s wrong with me.My parents think I’m a happy person.
I’m not.I never was.I pretend.I pretend all the time.I pretend everything is okay.I pretend I’m happy.I pretend there’s nothing wrong with me.
There are a lot of things wrong with me.My best friend says I’m too nice.She says that I forgive people too easily.Even she thinks there’s something wrong with me.
Even so, I still haven’t succeeded.There are more reasons for my attempts.I’ll talk about them later on.I don’t have many things that make me happy.I could care less about objects that make us happy.My computer is one of the very few things that make me happy.I like to play games of hopscotch.With my sisters or alone.I’m not very fond of the rest of my family.Sometimes they make me not want to exist.The comments and looks get to me.A lot.They hurt me beyond what I can control.
At school I don’t get bullied.I’ve experienced what it’s like to be a victim.But I’ve also experienced what it’s like to be the bully.I apologized right after saying the rude comment.He forgave and we’re still friends.I don’t have many friends.It’s very rare that I smile.Out of happiness, I mean.I’m always smiling.But it’s only to hide the pain and to keep me from breaking down, both mentally and physically.I haven’t cried in a long time.It surprises me.It surprises me that I can’t take my feelings out on others.I won’t do it.I won’t tell my friends how I really feel.Because I’m also scared of them.I’ve only told my friend about my secrets.Like the fact that I’ve cut.And the fact that I was molested as a little kid.
He also told me things.I don’t think he’d want me to tell anyone.Even though nobody knows who I actually am.He told me he also tried to commit suicide.He almost succeeded.I almost thought that he was disappointed as well.When he failed.
I think that no one deserves to go through all the things that I’m going through.
Anyways,on saturday he told me that he liked me.I tried to make the situation better.I failed miserably.He won’t talk to me.I apologized.He asked,”For???”.I responded with,”For pressuring you.” and he hasn’t responded.I think he’s mad at me.I’d understand .If he is.