These are the entries from the part of my senior year right before my parents pulled me out. This took place about a year and a half after my previous entries from my sophomore year. I had gotten so much worse. I desperately needed to be hospitalized but it didn’t happen the whole time, from the beginning of 2011. All I wanted was to feel better. And I lost everything because if it (read my very first post under the section losing everything for more details)

Again, please keep in mind that this was told from the perspective of someone mentally ill. My parents did not understand and thought they were doing what they needed to. A reason why education and speaking out about experiences is so important.

Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of those directly involved.

Wed. 8/15/12

We’ve been in school for a week now. I have a placement test tomorrow to see if I can stay in Spanish 4 AP. I’m kinda worried about it, but it’s only the vocabulary that poses a real challenge. In addition to that, I have a lot of homework and tests

I might actually be riding the bus tomorrow. 10 days before school started, I was listed on the direct route, but the day school started, my bus didn’t show up, and I was no longer on the route. Then the school called transportation, and I was dumped on transfer. Now I have a letter to give to the bus driver to let me ride that bus with a direct route.

I’m taking psychology this year. I’m really excited about it, and it seems interesting. I think I can do well in it.

Not everything is easy, though. I take math every day, and I hate the class. It’s hard on me emotionally. Even though I’ve been doing better, it’s still been hard. Sometimes all I want to do is go back to cutting, but I know I can’t. I haven’t done it for five months now. It’s so weird that I still think about it as if I’d stopped yesterday. Yet, as depressed as I still get sometimes, I really don’t want to die, or at least not yet. I’m trying to be more positive. However, I can’t help but notice that the bridge is a lot closer this year, since we’re on Government instead of Lee. I’m not anywhere near that, though.

There’s some days that I feel like I’m about to come apart again, but it hasn’t happened yet. I hope it doesn’t. I don’t want to go back to the way I was before. Ms. Olsen says I’m so much better. But I can’t push away the fear that something will go wrong. I know that if I ever again feel that I want to die, and truly mean it; my first choice will be the bridge.

In addition, my parents will pull me out of the school if I so much as cut, say I want to die, or contact the hotline. This really and truly is my last chance. Basically, if I ever feel suicidal again, there’s really only two outcomes, either I’ll get pulled out of the school, or I’ll go to the bridge; and if I go over the side, there’s no taking it back. On the other hand, if I tell someone, my parents will pull me out, and that could make things even worse. At that rate, I’ll probably end up in a mental institution, basically locked up where I won’t be able to do anything – good or bad. I might as well kill myself if I knew that was going to happen.

I don’t know. I’m so afraid. I guess because I know that if I come apart even once, that’s it It’s the end of the line. I’m desperately trying to keep this from happening, but what if it happens anyway? I don’t know.

Thursday 8/16/12

I found out the bus comes almost 20 min. before It’s scheduled to. So my mom had to drive me to school again. I’m staying after school today to take that placement test.

I feel myself sliding downhill again, the sane one I’ve been down so many times before. I don’t know why it’s happening, but it is. I’m doing everything I can to stop it, but apparently, it’s not enough. I’m starting to lose hope. I don’t think it will be long before I hit rock bottom. I actually broke down crying last night.

I’ve been hurting inside again. I wish I could cut, but I can’t just ruin 5 months of hard work in 2 seconds. I just don’t know another way to get rid of the pain. It just won’t go away. At times, it’s so bad that it almost feels physical. I really think that if I could cut, I’d be okay. I haven’t given up yet, but I fear that I may soon. Already, there’s a part of me that wants to die. I really don’t know how much longer I can keep going. Things are getting harder with every day that passes. I feel so helpless.

Some of the feelings that I’m having are ones that I’ve had before. I keep wondering if it would be easier on everyone if I was gone. I think it would be. I don’t think I have a purpose here. My life is pointless. I’ve heard people say that suicide is selfish, but I think the opposite. Because I feel it would be easier on everyone if I was gone, and the part of me that wants to live, is the part of me that loves horses, Spanish, and art, than staying here would be the selfish thing to do. On the other hand, if I’m just doing it to escape the pain, then suicide would be selfish. I don’t know.

I’m sliding down hill really fast. Just as an estimation, I’ll probably hit rock bottom as early as Monday. It depends on the events that happen in the next couple days. Now I’m starting to wonder: “Is life really worth living?” I don’t know the answer.

I hate myself. I just can’t stop feeling that way. I don’t know how I slid down so fast. I mean, two days ago, there was no way I would even think about the bridge. Now it’s there. A part of me wants it, and a part of me doesn’t. I’m losing hope – fast. Maybe I’m just not supposed to be here. Maybe I’m not meant to ever be happy, or anything but depressed. It’s not fair. I hate myself, and I hate my life. I don’t know why I even thought I could get better. It’s pointless. Every time I think I’m getting better, that I’m overcoming my problems, I fall back. Every single time. Maybe it’s just not meant to be……

I haven’t told anyone how bad I’m feeling. My friend asked, but I didn’t say anything. I told her I was fine. I’m anything but fine.

I want out……life hurts too much, it’s too painful. I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t!

I started to cry during Math. I could tell that I wasn’t going to be able to stay in control. I asked the teacher to go to the bathroom. When I got inside, I completely broke down. I couldn’t stop crying. The sobs were so forceful that I could not draw in a breath. My chest was hurting with emotional pain as my whole body shook uncontrollably. After a few minutes, I managed to get enough composure to return to class. I don’t feel any better though. I feel detached, non-existent. Like I’m here, but not really. It’s so hard……

Friday 8/17/12

I’m riding today. I changed my lesson from Thursdays to Fridays at 4:30. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to go yesterday because I had homework. I still do.

I’m feeling a little bit better today, but I still know I’m sliding down. Maybe I slowed, but I’m sliding down none the less. I mean, I wanted to die yesterday. I told myself “If you keep feeling like this, I’ll let you go.” I still can’t push off these thoughts. I’m not as depressed today, but I still feel there’s something wrong.

Because of what happened yesterday, I didn’t do good on the placement test. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t concentrate. My brain basically shut down. I even almost broke down during the test several times. It didn’t help me. But I talked to Dr. Coto. She was really understanding, and seemed to care. Best of all, she thinks my Spanish is good enough, and that if I work really hard, I can stay in the class!!

Monday 8/20/12

I’m in psychology right now. I just came from Spanish. I’m getting depressed yet again. It hurts. All I want is to be happy, but I doubt I ever will be. I’m a terrible person. There is absolutely no reason for me to be here.

My parents say that they don’t have enough money for me to go to riding lessons and the psychologist. If I was gone, they’d save over $3,000 a year. If it wasn’t for me, everybody would be a lot better off; my family, teachers, and classmates. No one needs me. I’ve never done anything good for anyone. I’m not good for anything.

Maybe I really will go to the bridge. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want out. Life is just not worth living. It’s not worth the pain. Nobody knows what’s wrong with me. Maybe I’ll just save them the trouble. It’ll take me less than an hour to get to the bridge. By the time my mom gets to the school (as long as there’s tutoring) and discovers I’m not there, I’ll be gone. I’m tired of failing with suicide. Jumping off the bridge is the only sure way I know of. I know if I go through with this, I know I won’t be able to ride or anything, but at least I won’t be here suffering. I won’t feel what little happiness there still is, but I won’t feel all the pain either. I won’t feel anything. It’s better to die than it is to stay here and feel all the pain. I still haven’t made a firm decision either way, and I defiantly don’t know when. The only thing I do know, is that if I keep feeling depressed like this, I’m going to do it. At this point I can’t say for sure….

Friday, I fell off the horse. Kendall put me on Bobbi, and she was a brat. She didn’t listen. She kept trying to go in the opposite direction, and stop at other horses. I was constantly pulling her. She would either go too fast, or way too slow. She even galloped with me. When I tried to pull her back, she humped her back and put her nose to the ground. I managed to stay on that time, but it was difficult. At one point, she jerked my arm so hard that I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder, that soon traveled all the way to my fingers. My shoulder radiated pain for awhile.

A short time later, she took off cantering, and then she stuck her head down, and humped her back, trying to buck. I was thrown forward, with nothing to grab on to, because her head was by her ankles. Then she swerved sideways, and I came off, landing on my right shoulder and hip. I laid in the damp dirt, until the pain diminished. Then I slowly got to my feet. Kendal was right there, holding Bobbi. I said, “We’ve got to get this dirt off, or my mom’s going to freak.” She helped me brush myself off. There was dirt everywhere – my shoulder, my arms, my back, my breeches. We managed to get the worst of it off, but it wasn’t enough. My mom asked why I was so dirty. I just told her the horse was dirty. She asked if I fell off, and I said no. After all, I was okay. I got back on her and walked her around. I just hope I’m not going to be afraid next week.

Yesterday, my dad gave me a driving lesson in the Pennington parking lot and driveway. I did good. I even went up to 15mph. I parked in the empty lot, and pulled out. I turned, made u-turns and circles.

Tuesday 8/21/12

I’m not really feeling any better today. I almost broke down in English, but somehow I managed to stay in control. I have a counselor’s appointment soon, but I don’t want to talk about how I’ve been feeling. I managed to tell Ms. Olsen, and Juana, but I really don’t want to tell anyone else.

I want to die. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m going to start looking for opportunities. All I need is to “attend” a tutoring session in either Spanish, Math, or NHS. I want out so bad, but even as I say this, there’s a small part of me that still wants to live. That’s the part that’s afraid of what the part that wants to die will do. It’s tearing me apart. Maybe that’s where some of my pain is coming from.

Right now, if I knew I was going to have an opportunity to go to the bridge Monday or Tuesday of next week, there would probably be about a 25% – 30% chance at least, that I’d do it. I hate myself so much, and it would be better for everyone if I wasn’t here anymore. I’m going to try to make that happen….. I just don’t know when..… The chances that I’m going to the bridge at some point this year are about 60% – 70%.

Wednesday 8/22/12

I went to my therapist yesterday. I told her about Thursday, and about falling of the horse, but not about how I’ve been feeling recently. She wanted me to try to come up with a plan to keep me going back to where I was, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’d already gone back.

Two mature people talked to me along with my parents, about how I can not feel so discouraged, and depressed. It was helpful. He said I need to think about one good quality every day for a whole week and choose another one for the next week.

Today I found out the math tutoring has started on Thursdays after school. I told Ms. Olsen that I was going to be okay, at least until the beginning of next month.

But thinking about it now, the beginning of next month seems like a long way off. What if I can handle the pain? I’ll try to wait that long, but if I can’t, I can’t. I’m almost certain now that at some point, I’m going to head for the bridge. Unless something changes, I’m planning on doing it September 6, 2012. There’s still a lot of me that wants to die, wants the pain to end. There’s just no other way to make it go away. I’ll have to kill myself.

Thursday 8/23/12

I’m supposed to stay for math tutoring today after school. That means I’ll have the chance to go to the bridge if I want to.

Yesterday, I broke down in the P.E. locker room. Coach Winfield asked if I was okay, but I said yes, even though I knew I wasn’t. When I got to Liter’s class, I felt horrible. I contacted crises chat of the Wi-Fi. After chatting for a while, I felt better, but it didn’t take me long for me to fall back. I was so depressed last night, that I almost broke down while I was working on my English. I didn’t get my math done. I didn’t understand it, and I was too depressed to try to figure it out. That’s when I asked my parents about tutoring, and I realized that I could kill myself if that’s what I decided to do.

I’m not feeling good today either. I have to make a decision on whether not to go to a bridge today. Part of me wants to wait, and part of me doesn’t. I guess it all depends on which part of me is overpowering at which point. I don’t know what I want to do. I’m afraid that if I try to go to the bridge, that someone will stop me, or that I’ll get there, and change my mind about jumping. I really want to die, but I’m scared. I have no idea what I’m going to do, or what’s going to happen.

Friday 8/24/12

Yesterday, during math, I contacted crises chat again. They almost had to contact the police, but the bell rang, and I talked to Ms. Olsen, and then I told crises chat (I talked to Katy) what happened. I told Ms. Olsen that I was supposed to go to tutoring. She said, ” no, not “supposed to”, you’re going to tutoring.” And she took me down there. Mr. Harper wasn’t there yet, so she pulled out a chair, and told me to sit in the hallway where there were cameras, and not to move until Mr. Harper got there. She kept me from going to the bridge.

I want to die today too. I’m in psychology right now, and I’m in so much emotional pain. I wish with all my heart that I could do it today, but I can’t. Somehow I have to make it through another two weeks. I can’t, though. I need to cut. I can’t do that either. I’ve never felt so completely helpless and hopeless. I just want to die. Somehow I’ve got to stop the pain. I can’t. I can’t do anything. Nothing. I can’t endure, and I can’t escape. I feel like crying… .. I wish I could just go to sleep and never wake up.

I’m breaking down, and I’m sitting in class. I hate it when that happens. I don’t like anyone seeing me cry.

Monday 8/27/12

When I got to science Friday, I told the teacher that I was really depressed. She asked me if I needed to go anywhere, and I asked if I could just go to the bathroom and cry. She said yes. It took me a while to find it, but when I got inside, I started crying and I couldn’t stop. I cried so hard my whole body was shaking, and I started sweating. Well, apparently, Ms. Font got worried, and told guidance that I was missing. They came looking for me. Two feet appeared in front of the stall door, and the voice said “Theresa, you need to unlock the door right now. I need to make sure you’re okay.” I thought it was in Ms. Font, so I opened the door, but Dr. Sanders was standing there, and I was still crying. She took me to Ms. Meeks office (another guidance counselor), and called my mom from her office. My mom wanted to come get me, but I talked her out of it. It was a long time before I stopped crying.

Later that day, I went to my riding lesson. Omega was written next to my name on the sheet. I got him out and tacked him up. Everyone was running about 15 minutes late. I walked him around, and trotted him, but when I turned him in the other direction, he started bobbing his head, favoring one of his legs. I immediately pulled him up. I waited a few seconds, and asked him to walk. I couldn’t feel anything unusual. Then I asked him to trot again, and then I felt it. He felt stiff, like he didn’t want to move out. So I asked Kendall if he was moving right. She confirmed my belief that he was “a little off”. I told her that I didn’t want to push him. I found out Brandy had a 5:30, so I jumped in with her, and rode Jesse, my favorite horse. I cantered him, and jumped him over a set of three “x” with one stride between the first two, and two – three strides between the second and third. I did good, and it was fun.

Today, I told Ms. Olsen what happened Friday, and that I keep telling myself “10 days”. I’ve been texting Susana Jones, and telling her my feelings. But I’m not telling anyone the worst of it. I’ll write it here though:

In just 10 days, I’m going to jump off the I-10. There’s no point in going on. It’s so hard to just make it through each day. I don’t think things are going to get better, and it’s better to just end the pain. September 6, 2012. After that, I won’t be here anymore. I’m not going to let anyone stop me this time. I’m going to go through with it. I have to.

Last night, I dreamed that I was on the bridge. For some strange reason, my parents took me to the bridge in their car, and left me in the car, parked on the side of the bridge. I looked out the window, and stared down into the water 175 feet below. I seriously consider getting out and jumping off, but I didn’t know when my parents would come back to the car. So I just stared longingly at the water, and told myself that I come here again – in 10 days.

Tuesday 9/4/12

This is our first day back to school. Hurricane Isaac caused school to be canceled for a while. Open house is September 11 at 6:00. The last week has been extremely hard. I’ve spent days just trying not to cry. I kept telling myself that I would do it; that would leave. I’ve tried everything, prayer, bible reading, distractions, sleeping, reading, spending time with friends, doing stuff in Spanish, watching “it’s a wonderful life”. Nothing took the pain away for very long. Sometimes I would cry myself to sleep. I feel so helpless. The pain just won’t go away. There’s no way I’m going through another week like this. I’m going to go through with suicide in just two days. I don’t have a choice. Susana told me that jumping off the bridge wouldn’t be a good idea. Okay, so I thought about it. There’s no shoulder, traffic moves quickly, and if it’s stop-and-go, someone would probably notice that I was walking where nobody walks and jump out and stop at me. But I don’t care. I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t care about myself, just others. I want to die, and I’m going to make that happen.

I have a very detailed plan for Thursday. I’m going to come to school, and make sure that it’s really what I want to do. In my classes I’m going to write a suicide note. In 5th – 7th I’m going to get on Crisis Chat. Then I’m going to run up the stairs when the final bell rings, put the suicide note in my locker, and give Ms. Olsen a framed 8×10 photo of me jumping Jesse. And I’m going to tell Crisis Chat that I’m leaving to jump off the bridge, and I’ll begin my 45 minute walk.

Wednesday 9/5/12

I want to leave. I don’t want to be here anymore. Miss Olsen already knows that I might jump off the bridge tomorrow. I don’t know how. I never told her outright. Whatever. I’m not going to let her stop at me. I don’t want to lie to her, but if that’s the only way to keep her from stopping me, and telling my parents, I have no choice. As of right now, I’m going to do it tomorrow. There’s just so much pain, and with every day that passes, I find more reasons for wanting to die. Every single event that happens today and tomorrow will contribute to my final decision. Even everything people say. Every single thing that happens now is crucial.

Friday 9/7/12

Yesterday was plain crazy. I didn’t even have time to write. So I’m just going to start where I left off. Wednesday afternoon, I met these two girls that take P.E. at the same time as me. They both cut. I only got a chance to talk to Marisa, though. She told me that she wants to stop. Her dad knows, but she said he doesn’t realize that he’s part of the problem. Her mom probably knows too, but, she said she doesn’t want to admit it, because “she’d be less of a perfect child”. She is afraid to tell anyone anything because she’s afraid her parents will go to jail. She wouldn’t tell me what’s going on, but I know her parents are doing something to her. Yesterday, I told guidance. They didn’t even know what to do. I wrote her a letter yesterday, and gave her phone numbers that she could call if she wanted to talk to someone, or get herself the help that her parents won’t provide. She prefers talking face to face, so she wants to go to a therapist. I’m going to try to give her the letter today, and try to find out reasons.

This event got me thinking. What if I’m the only person that can help these two people? I started reconsidering my decision to commit suicide. From that point, to yesterday before noon, I was at 50:50. I didn’t know what was going to happen, or what I was going to do.

Yesterday morning, I was actually okay, but my mental state slowly deteriorated. By 5th hour, I had logged onto crises chat, and I was waiting for a counselor to join the conversation. The previous day (Wednesday) I logged on during 5th hr. and told them my plan for suicide. They wanted to make sure that I got back on at 1:30 which I did. They emailed me, to help make sure that I got back on. Anyway, Katy finally answered, and I chatted with her for a while. She asked if she needed to get me some help, but I said “I don’t think so”, because I didn’t want anyone to stop me.

It was strange. All of a sudden, a wall of sadness and pain hit me. All I wanted to do was die, and I knew that I could do that shortly. I tried to think about the people I’d met in P.E., but for some reason, these thoughts were blocked. I didn’t know what was going on. All I knew is that there was a horrible pain, and I wanted to die more than anything. I was going to the bridge.

I was scared. There was a part of me that didn’t really want to die, but it too was blocked. Nothing would allow me to think to try to change the decision I had just made. My hands were trembling, and I could barely type the responses. I was taking a math test, that I didn’t care about, and chatting on crises chat.

I was still on the chat when the bell rang. I ran up the stairs and started throwing everything in my locker. I was so upset and distraught, that I couldn’t think. It was so strange. I’ve never felt like that before. I could barely speak, and my hands and legs were still trembling. Miss Olsen saw me, and she asked me if I was okay. I said yes, that she could go. “That face tells me that you’re not okay” she said. I said “I’ll be fine, just leave me alone.” (Much more forcefully than I intended) She said “I think I need to call your dad”. “You’re not going to call my dad.” “Come on”. “I’ll go to tutoring, okay? I’ll go”. “Come on.” So she took me to math tutoring. She told Mr. Harper not to let me out of the room, that I was acting strange, and that it would be a good idea if he walked me to my ride. That’s what Mr. Harper told me when I asked him what Ms. Olden said. He said “apparently you were acting even stranger than you always do.”

I’m not even supposed to be here today. I wish I hadn’t let Ms. Olsen stop me. I think I’m going to do it next week. Then, NOBODY is going to stop me. I have to get out of here. There’s way too much pain…

Monday 9/10/12

I can’t do this anymore. I was so depressed over the weekend that it was all I could do not to cry. I didn’t care about my homework, not even Spanish. I didn’t even bother with my math. I almost broke down while I was riding Baby. (Actually the horse in this post’s photo) I cried last night, and I’ve been trying not to cry since school started this morning. I think about killing myself all the time. I’m in so much pain that I can’t function anymore.

There’s nothing I can do. Suicide is my only option. My parents won’t let me take medicine, and they want me to stop going to counseling. I have to kill myself; it’s the only way to end the pain.

Thursday, I’m leaving. I cannot take another week of this. I just wish I could do it today…

Tuesday 9/11/12

Open house is tonight. I’m looking forward to it, but I haven’t changed my mind about suicide. I was on crises chat from the beginning of fifth hour to the bell to go home. I talked to Noel. It was helpful. I told him my plan for Thursday and how I was feeling. He told me that I needed to come back on chat Thursday at 12:10.

I felt so bad yesterday. I went through a 1st hr. almost breaking down, through the whole class. I did break down in 3rd hr. When I got to lunch, I cried again. I couldn’t function in any of my classes. Nothing mattered. I couldn’t do my work, and I didn’t care about my homework. I was so sure that I wanted to kill myself. I wish I could have done it that day. I’ve never been so depressed for so long, or felt so horrible. I’ve never been in that much pain, or so set on suicide.

I don’t think I can make it through this episode. The pain I feel inside is just way too intense. I felt so bad that I started looking for a blade. I wanted to cut, because nothing else I was doing was working. Cutting has never failed. I don’t know what to do today. Ms. Olsen keeps telling me to take one day at a time, but that’s so hard to do. The pain is so intense, that I can’t take it anymore. The pain is emotional, but it feels physical, like it’s coming from deep within my chest, and I don’t know why it’s there. I just know that I have to escape it, and suicide is the only way to do that.

Wednesday 9/12/12

Open house was last night. We all went. It was fun. Lots of stairs. We went to the meeting from the school. I started to go downhill again. I actually broke down at the meeting. I was in so much pain again. I felt pretty good yesterday afternoon, and I fooled myself into thinking that I could make it through another week. I can’t. I can’t do anything.

Today, I’m so depressed. I almost broke down before school even started. I didn’t do any of my assignments. I managed to get something done in clubs today in time for second hour, but even that was hard. There’s too much pain for me to stay here. I can’t keep going. I don’t think I’m going to pull through this one… I’m going to start writing my suicide note today, because after tomorrow I won’t be here anymore.

Monday 9/17/12

So much has happened since the last time I wrote. Thursday, I contacted crises chat. They almost had to contact someone. Ms. Olsen took me to tutoring, again, and I had to stay there. Mr. Harper wouldn’t let me out. All I wanted to do was die.

Crises e-mailed me back, and I found out that because I’m 17, if I get to the ER, and tell them that I’m suicidal, and can’t keep myself safe, that I don’t need a parent consent to be admitted. The problem is getting there. I don’t know how yet.

I had a riding lesson on Jesse Friday. It was fun. We did some jumps. He’s so much fun to ride! Saturday and Sunday, I was really depressed. I actually broke down at home. There was a gathering last night, but I didn’t really want to go. I felt so depressed. I went anyway, but I just sat in a chair for most of the time.

Saturday, I was overwhelmed with emotional pain, and on impulse, I pulled out a pair of scissors and cut my left leg. It wasn’t bad. It bled a little, and delivered it just enough physical pain to numb the emotional.

Sunday, before the meeting, the same thing happened. I was overwhelmed, and impulsively pulled out the pair of scissors and cut the inside of my right leg. It was a little deeper and then the other one, and it bled a little longer. It stung for about 40 minutes, but I felt better, and I was grateful for the pain.

I think I’m going to try to get help to day. I know if I don’t get help, I’m going to kill myself. I’m still not sure how I’m going to do it. I have a couple ideas, though. I’ve got to get help for all this depression, and the pain that I feel all the time.

In psychology, I don’t know what happened. I missed an assignment because I was too depressed to do it. Today, during that class, I felt horrible. I was in pain, and I needed to cut. I fought it for a while before finally giving in. I found a blade at my house (a new one) and I put it into the hiding place under the sole of my shoe. I sit in the back in psychology, and it was all too easy to pull out the blade and cut. I cut the back of my arm. It was a little deep, and I could see the inside of it, but it wasn’t wide. I had to get a tissue before and there was too much blood there. I got it stopped, but it would start bleeding again for no apparent reason, and the blood would bead at the edges. I finally had to go to the office and get a band aid so I could put my jacket on without worrying if I was going to get blood on it.

I can’t believe it. I made it six months without cutting, and at the drop of a hat, I’ve gone back, and I’ve cut myself three times in the past three days, and I’ve already found a blade. I don’t want to go back, but I am. It seems impossible that I can go back to that so easily. I thought I was free from it. Apparently not.

I’m going to get help to day. It’s either that, or I’m going to kill myself. I’ve slipped back into cutting, because the pain from depression is so bad. The way I look at it, is this: if I get help, I’ll lose my riding lessons, and I won’t be able to come to this school. If I don’t get help, I’ll still have those things, but I am, and will be, too depressed to enjoy them. For me, it’s better to feel better emotionally then it is to have those things. If I get help, I won’t kill myself, and I can still have the opportunity to go out of my own, help people, and lead a more normal life later on. That’s why I’m choosing to pursue help.

Tuesday 9/25/12

Wow! I don’t even know where to start. I stayed after school last Monday to work on the telenovela for Spanish. But I left early to get help. I called the hotline, and they called 911. A fire truck, an ambulance, and about five police cars pulled up in front of the school where I was walking. They got out, and surrounded me. I was shaking, and could barely speak. The asked if I had anything they needed to know about, and I said “a blade”. They wouldn’t let me get it. I had to tell them where it was. They held my arms while another took off my shoe, and got the blade, and I went into the ambulance, and they took me to Our Lady of the Lake. On the way there, they asked me questions.

When I got to the hospital, they took my blood pressure, and temperature. I talked to a doctor, and the COPE Team while I was in the ER. And I stayed in a holding room waiting to find a bed, and then again for transport to New Orleans.

While I was waiting in the ER, my parents came in to see me one at a time. My dad was very angry, and demanded to know why I did this. I just didn’t respond. My mom wasn’t as upset, but I could tell that she didn’t like what I had done. But it was either that or suicide.

This is cut short because my parents pulled me out of school. I didn’t get to finish the entry. That was the last day I attended school. Ms. Olsen has even said I’d seemed better. I told her I hope it stays that way. And she told me “I think it will”.