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My name is Lynsie. I cut myself and I am 13. I've been doing this since I was 11. My thighs are covered in scars. I'm gonna tell you why. When I was born, my family was poor. We had barely any food or heat in the middle of Montana. When I was about two, my brother was born. I named him baby Gus, even though his real name is Trystyn. I love him to the core. A year and a half after that, my sister, Cece was born. Cece, short for Cecily. A this point, we lived in a farm house in Wyoming. It was a cute little place, but it was small. Too small for a family of five. We lived there for about six months, then we moved to Nebraska. We lived in a quiet little house in a small town where my cousin lived. She was about CeCe's age. We baby sat her for the time that we lived there. I was about four then. My mom had no job, and my dad is a Pipeliner. We lost our house, and were forced to live in a camp trailer. We were homeless for about a year until one of my mom's friends said she could rent out a house in the small city of Billings, Montana. I was seven, and my first day of school was coming up at Saint Francis Primary.
Fast Forward a month, and I had no friends. First Grade was tough. I laid in my bed all the time that I was off from school. My mom was concerned at this point and took me to a doctor. I was diagnosed with severe depression. At age Seven. No one in my family had this, and it was hard for me. My mom tried everything to make me happy. Ice Cream, Dresses, Everything, but nothing helped. One day, a stray cat wandered into our tiny little house. She was pregnant, and I begged and pleaded to keep this cat. She was in terrible shape, and about to give birth. My mom agreed because it was the first time she had seen me happy in months. Exactly a week later, she gave birth to four kittens. Two had polydactyl syndrome, which means they have extra toes, one was normal, but the other.. There was something about him. His arms. They were shortened and crooked. We didn't notice until a couple weeks later when the kittens started to walk. He was rejected by his mother and siblings. He was starving. My dad was about to take him to the vet to put him out of his misery when he walked into the room and saw me cradling him in my arms, bottle feeding him. My dad broke down in tears, and my mom walked in. I was confused at why they were crying, until I saw the kitten purring loudly while sucking on the bottle. It showed them to have faith in anyone, even this kitten. I still have him today, and I named him Tiggy. He is my most favorite cat in the whole world. Anyway, we had to give the other kittens away. They were to close friends, but I still missed them. The two females went together, while the male went to my dad, who lived in a camp trailer still because of work. My mom got a job at Billings Clinic and made a living for us. For the first time in my life, I had a house of my own. I was overjoyed and super happy. I was in third grade then. I went to school and told my best friend, Brooklyn, all about it. She was so happy about it that she told all of the rest of my friends, and they all brought a cookie for me. It was my first time having a cookie. I loved it, and was almost brought to tears at how wonderful my friends were to me. I got home that day, and was ready to tell my mom all about it. My dad opened the door, this was a surprise because I haven't seen him in a very long time. He knelt down, put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Lynsie Lucy. Your mom and I are going to be.. Breaking up," it hit me like a brick. I looked at my mom with tears and my eyes, and she slowly nodded. I fell to my knees and dropped my back pack. I didn't cry. I didn't do anything. I just sat there with a blank expression on my face, staring at the ground. My mom and dad wrapped me in a tight hug, and tears fell. I wasn't making any sound, but tears fell. My mom picked me up, and took me to my rrom. I didn't sleep that night. I didn't cry. I was nine years old and my parents were being divorced. I HATE that word. Whenever I hear it, I want to cry. I'm even crying as I'm writing this. At school, Brooklyn offered me another cookie. I looked at her and broke down in tears. I buried my face in her shirt, and she just hugged me. Saying nothing, She picked me up, and we went to the school counselor. I told her what happened with Brooklyn at my side, and all the counselor replied with was,"I am sorry things aren't working out at home. Do you want to work on some math skills? I have fun games on my compu-" she got halfway through her sentence before Brooklyn slammed her fist on the table and screamed," DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE IS GOING THROUGH? DO YOU EVEN CARE? THIS CHILD IS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER IMAGINE!" I remember it word for word.
The counsellor looked down and asked, "Is everything alright at home?" Brooklyn lost it with this lady. She was single, in her twenties, and has had no experience with kids whatsoever. Brooklyn lifted me up, and carried me out of the room. I was much shorter than she was, and she could carry me easily. She carried me on her back everywhere for the next month or two after the divorce.
Fast forward to the summer going into fifth grade. Brooklyn was still my best friend, and stood up for me when I couldn't stand up for myself. That summer, Brooklyn wasn't there. My mom met a very nice gentleman named Robert. He is one of the nicest people I ever met. He worked at Lockwood schools. During the summer, there was a summer camp going on there. My siblings and I had nothing else to do, so why not? I'll tell you why not. Weak, small children plus lockers plus bullies equals bad. I was bruised, beaten, shoved into lockers, and made no friends. These people said things to me that made me feel worthless, so I started cutting. It started small, but I have grown used to the pain. That summer because of these kids, I broke three fingers, two toes, and my nose twice. I never told my parents. Fifth grade was a pretty good year. I had grown used to Rob, and I liked him. Sixth and seventh grade. I met a girl. Her name is Lily. She is extremely thin, has dark, very VERY long hair, and always wears a sweatshirt. She had trouble making friends. During recess, she just stood in a corner, rubbing her arm, as if she was nervous to talk to someone. I finally decided to man up, and talk to her. My first words were extremely cringe worthy. "You look depressed. Here, let me show you around!" That's right. My first words to a total stranger were 'You Look Depressed.' She actually looked happy, and gave me a smile. I took her by the hand, and introduced her to Brooklyn and a couple other of my friends. Suddenly, this popular girl appears. I was unpopular, and so was my friend group. This particular girl was horrible. Her name was Tayah. She moved from Arizona to here. Her first words were, "Look at you. No wonder your parents had to argue over who has to keep you. You hang out with the emo kids," Lily was almost brought to tears. She his behind her hair, and looked down. I put my arm around her and said ,"It's no wonder no one tried to stop you from moving from Arizona. They just couldn't stand you anymore," my friends laughed, and then things got violent. Tayah tripped me by kicking my ankles, and through a punch at Lily, but was blocked by none other than Brooklyn. She caught her fist, twisted it around, and said, "If you treat your friends like you treat strangers, I wouldn't think you'd have any," She dropped her fist, and helped me up. Lily and I became best friends.
Fast Forward to Seventh Grade. Tayah daily smears honey over my locker and its contents. I found out that Lily is anorexic. Brooklyn somehow ditched me and became friends with the popular girls like Tayah and Rachel. My friend group ditched me. I see me dad 8 times a year. I have no counselor, and everyone thinks I am mentally insane for having depression and Brooklyn teases me that I should kill myself. Lily found out that I cut myself. She is the only friend that I have left. I am considering suicide. That was my life story. Goodbye world. Let's see how you treat everyone else now that one failure is out of your way. Friend, Family, it is not your fault. I just can't live anymore. Goodbye.
Fast Forward a month, and I had no friends. First Grade was tough. I laid in my bed all the time that I was off from school. My mom was concerned at this point and took me to a doctor. I was diagnosed with severe depression. At age Seven. No one in my family had this, and it was hard for me. My mom tried everything to make me happy. Ice Cream, Dresses, Everything, but nothing helped. One day, a stray cat wandered into our tiny little house. She was pregnant, and I begged and pleaded to keep this cat. She was in terrible shape, and about to give birth. My mom agreed because it was the first time she had seen me happy in months. Exactly a week later, she gave birth to four kittens. Two had polydactyl syndrome, which means they have extra toes, one was normal, but the other.. There was something about him. His arms. They were shortened and crooked. We didn't notice until a couple weeks later when the kittens started to walk. He was rejected by his mother and siblings. He was starving. My dad was about to take him to the vet to put him out of his misery when he walked into the room and saw me cradling him in my arms, bottle feeding him. My dad broke down in tears, and my mom walked in. I was confused at why they were crying, until I saw the kitten purring loudly while sucking on the bottle. It showed them to have faith in anyone, even this kitten. I still have him today, and I named him Tiggy. He is my most favorite cat in the whole world. Anyway, we had to give the other kittens away. They were to close friends, but I still missed them. The two females went together, while the male went to my dad, who lived in a camp trailer still because of work. My mom got a job at Billings Clinic and made a living for us. For the first time in my life, I had a house of my own. I was overjoyed and super happy. I was in third grade then. I went to school and told my best friend, Brooklyn, all about it. She was so happy about it that she told all of the rest of my friends, and they all brought a cookie for me. It was my first time having a cookie. I loved it, and was almost brought to tears at how wonderful my friends were to me. I got home that day, and was ready to tell my mom all about it. My dad opened the door, this was a surprise because I haven't seen him in a very long time. He knelt down, put a hand on my shoulder and said, "Lynsie Lucy. Your mom and I are going to be.. Breaking up," it hit me like a brick. I looked at my mom with tears and my eyes, and she slowly nodded. I fell to my knees and dropped my back pack. I didn't cry. I didn't do anything. I just sat there with a blank expression on my face, staring at the ground. My mom and dad wrapped me in a tight hug, and tears fell. I wasn't making any sound, but tears fell. My mom picked me up, and took me to my rrom. I didn't sleep that night. I didn't cry. I was nine years old and my parents were being divorced. I HATE that word. Whenever I hear it, I want to cry. I'm even crying as I'm writing this. At school, Brooklyn offered me another cookie. I looked at her and broke down in tears. I buried my face in her shirt, and she just hugged me. Saying nothing, She picked me up, and we went to the school counselor. I told her what happened with Brooklyn at my side, and all the counselor replied with was,"I am sorry things aren't working out at home. Do you want to work on some math skills? I have fun games on my compu-" she got halfway through her sentence before Brooklyn slammed her fist on the table and screamed," DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE IS GOING THROUGH? DO YOU EVEN CARE? THIS CHILD IS GOING THROUGH SOMETHING YOU COULD NEVER IMAGINE!" I remember it word for word.
The counsellor looked down and asked, "Is everything alright at home?" Brooklyn lost it with this lady. She was single, in her twenties, and has had no experience with kids whatsoever. Brooklyn lifted me up, and carried me out of the room. I was much shorter than she was, and she could carry me easily. She carried me on her back everywhere for the next month or two after the divorce.
Fast forward to the summer going into fifth grade. Brooklyn was still my best friend, and stood up for me when I couldn't stand up for myself. That summer, Brooklyn wasn't there. My mom met a very nice gentleman named Robert. He is one of the nicest people I ever met. He worked at Lockwood schools. During the summer, there was a summer camp going on there. My siblings and I had nothing else to do, so why not? I'll tell you why not. Weak, small children plus lockers plus bullies equals bad. I was bruised, beaten, shoved into lockers, and made no friends. These people said things to me that made me feel worthless, so I started cutting. It started small, but I have grown used to the pain. That summer because of these kids, I broke three fingers, two toes, and my nose twice. I never told my parents. Fifth grade was a pretty good year. I had grown used to Rob, and I liked him. Sixth and seventh grade. I met a girl. Her name is Lily. She is extremely thin, has dark, very VERY long hair, and always wears a sweatshirt. She had trouble making friends. During recess, she just stood in a corner, rubbing her arm, as if she was nervous to talk to someone. I finally decided to man up, and talk to her. My first words were extremely cringe worthy. "You look depressed. Here, let me show you around!" That's right. My first words to a total stranger were 'You Look Depressed.' She actually looked happy, and gave me a smile. I took her by the hand, and introduced her to Brooklyn and a couple other of my friends. Suddenly, this popular girl appears. I was unpopular, and so was my friend group. This particular girl was horrible. Her name was Tayah. She moved from Arizona to here. Her first words were, "Look at you. No wonder your parents had to argue over who has to keep you. You hang out with the emo kids," Lily was almost brought to tears. She his behind her hair, and looked down. I put my arm around her and said ,"It's no wonder no one tried to stop you from moving from Arizona. They just couldn't stand you anymore," my friends laughed, and then things got violent. Tayah tripped me by kicking my ankles, and through a punch at Lily, but was blocked by none other than Brooklyn. She caught her fist, twisted it around, and said, "If you treat your friends like you treat strangers, I wouldn't think you'd have any," She dropped her fist, and helped me up. Lily and I became best friends.
Fast Forward to Seventh Grade. Tayah daily smears honey over my locker and its contents. I found out that Lily is anorexic. Brooklyn somehow ditched me and became friends with the popular girls like Tayah and Rachel. My friend group ditched me. I see me dad 8 times a year. I have no counselor, and everyone thinks I am mentally insane for having depression and Brooklyn teases me that I should kill myself. Lily found out that I cut myself. She is the only friend that I have left. I am considering suicide. That was my life story. Goodbye world. Let's see how you treat everyone else now that one failure is out of your way. Friend, Family, it is not your fault. I just can't live anymore. Goodbye.
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