Let's go a little into the past of Ryan, and see what's brought him to this point.
I've always been so easy to upset, from my youngest dayas. In childhood, when I got dropped off to daycare, or kindergarten, I used to cry for hours, just over my mother leaving me there. It didn't matter what anyone said or did, I kept crying, even though I knew that I would see her again in just a few short hours. In the beginning, I wasn't the only one. But shortly, the other kids outgrew it, in just a few weeks, yet I didn't.
As I got older, it just got worse. You know all kids will slowly start becoming more malicious and cruel, taking on the views of their parents. In a group of toddlers, they won't fight and argue much, especially without cause. But as they get older, they hold grudges for nothing. So around the time they got to be about 6 or 7 years old, they did what all kids their age do. They started teasing other kids.
Looking back now, I realize it wasn't anything to be upset over, but now I've experienced worse. But at the time when I had nothing to compare it to, it was as if they were throwing sticks and stones at me, verbally. I laugh now, thinking I used to be reduced to tears by such generic insults, like "meanie" or "poophead". Yeah, you know you've probably heard it or said it or both when you were in kindergarten. Don't look at me like that.
In middle school, the new 'cool' word was 'gay'. It was 'Oh, you're so gay' or 'Bro, that's fuckin' gay!'. They said it without insult or even meaning it, like when these guys run around calling each other 'nigga'. The other kids were able to brush it off like nothing. Because it was nothing. They knew that. But even though I knew it was just a childish way of trying to seem cool, I couldn't stop it from hurting me.
Then it hurt even more when they started calling people a 'fag'. It was the same with 'gay', but to me it hurt more, because besides the fact that 'fag' is a more derogertory word, I was questioning at the time. Even worse than this was coming home to my alcoholic father. I got hell at school, and hell at home. And if I thought that they'd mature with time, they didn't. There were just more insults, and more nasty, vicious rumors abounding. Then, there was also the fact that I could look forward to getting beat up or shoved into a locker at least once a week.
But I had my way of coping. Around the middle of 6th grade, I started running to a knife for comfort. When the bullying at school started to get physical, I quickly found out that my blades were my only friends. They were the only ones that I could trust. As a result, I went running to them in tears nearly every hour.
Nobody questioned all the cuts I had, because they assumed it was just more effects of the bullying. I pity them for thinking like that, but I also thank them. Because if they had thought that something was up, I might've been carted away to a loony bin. I remember there were a few of these stories in highschool. There was this girl who tried to kill herself, so she got sent to a hospital. According to some people who talked to her sister, her sister said that she would most likely be there the rest of her life. Then there was this guy, anger issues, the lot. One day he got in this fight and got sent to a hospital for a while. Whatever pills they put him on, when he came back, he was just a shell, a zombie.
And lastly, the one that hurt the most, is because I actually knew the person. The year before, she had gotten sent to a bunch of hospitals, because she used to scratch herself. It wasn't bad, deep cuts, just little scratches that'd vanish in a couple days, and she didn't do them that often. But someone apparently thought that she needed to be put on pills or some shit. She became a wreck of a person. The side effects from all those pills were awful. I don't think I ever want to see something like that happen again. Eventually, they took her off the pills, but the damage was done. Thanks to them, she now had some massive issues, trauma, and a record saying she was mentally unstable.
While I didn't talk to her much, I did hear all the rumors that were going around. Then, my second year of highschool, her first, something happened. I'm not sure what, but apparently she had gotten sent to the hospital again. She got out, but when she did, her life went to hell. Pretty much everyone she had depended on had completely left her. And to top it off, they were treating her like shit, because it seemed that somehow or the other someone in authority had spilled the beans on it. Close to the end, she was a complete mess. She had gotten forced to go see this doctor, and they had said that she needed to be institutionalized, probably for years. Of course, she couldn't take that, so she took her own life instead.
It shocked me, especially when one of the last of her friends who still stuck by her came up to me. It turns out that she had left a will of some sort, with a letter for me. It was pretty short. She just said that she was sorry that we couldn't have been closer, and she thanked me for at least still being nice to her at the end, when almost everyone else was an asshole. She told me to switch off my wrists, before they found me, because I didn't wanna get shit over it, but she'd prefer if I stop, so the same thing that happened to her wouldn't happen to me. Then she said while she didn't have anything that she could leave me, She said that she would watch over me from wherever the hell she went next.
As I said, this bothered me, because I knew her. It bothered me even more, because I saw what they did to people like me and her. It was easy to understand now why I'm terrified of going anywhere near a hospital, or letting people know what I do. I don't want to go through any of that shit, even if I'm out of the school system now. I still don't have many people I can trust. But ever since that day over 10 years ago, I've never been without my knives.
I am Ryan Ross, and this has been the fucked up story of my life.
When he's saying over 10 years ago, he means that he was around 11-13 when he started in 6th grade.