Thread: Chaos Theory: Causing Hahvoc.

Re Chaos Theory Causing Hahvoc. The Turning Point My life was taking the worse turn for someone my age. I had very few friends at that point, and it seemed like I was going to lose them all just for being me. Or what I was becoming. I wasn't sure who I was anymore. I was just a shell of my former self. I smiled, laughed, and acted like nothing could touch me. But it was all lies, all pretend. I could see it on some of my friends' faces that they were concerned, but I would shake my head and just smile. Nothing was wrong. Really. There's nothing to worry about. But I think they actually knew, but didn't know how to approach me about it. They were as in the dark as I was, except my world was getting darker by the hour. I remember when my family went out for the day to do something, I can't quite recall. I was fine by myself, preferred it actually, because then I wouldn't have to worry about the glances sent my way, the worry and concern that dotted my loved ones faces. It was too much to handle most of the time. I was fine for the first two hours, and then something happened. I started thinking that my family had just left me and weren't gonna come back. And I was angry about it. Or something like that. I wasn't sure exactly what it was all about. Something within me panicked. I was alone, so alone, and it scared the fuck out of me. I curled up on my bed, playing music to try and calm me down, but it didn't work and I went into melt-down mode. I tore apart my posters, all six of them, while crying and saying random things. I don't remember it like it happened to me, I remember it as though I had left my body in order to see myself in this state. After all my posters were destroyed, I looked at the damage and just...calmed down. I became numb. I went into the kitchen and got a trash bag and gathered up all the pieces and started throwing them out. My family came back home. My mother looked at me throwing out my torn up posters and asked, What happened, honey? Like she was curious more than anything. My reply? Nothing. I just didn't want those posters anymore. My mom just shrugged and went into the bathroom. I had lied smoothly. And she hadn't bothered to notice or inquire further. I close my door and found a thumb tack and dragged the sharpened edge over my wrist. It hurt, but didn't do what I needed. I dragged it the other way. Still not enough. I kept moving it back and forth until I finally saw what I wanted, blood. It wasn't a lot, just a little, but enough for me to go to bed for the night. I cut myself intentionally one other time, and when I tried to tell my friends about it, it didn't seem so important to them, like it was some usual occurrence. It made me a little, sad, I think. I don't quite recall the emotions that flooded through me. I still didn't matter. That's the gist of what I got. I went through the next few months in solitude and silence it seemed, discovering different animes and a roleplaying site. That helped me a little, I could be someone else for a change. I got in trouble for it later, but at the time, it was worth getting out of my own skin to be someone pretty and amazing, even if it wasn't real. It was enough for me. But the depression didn't ebb. It flowed out and struck deeper within me. Like a plant taking root inside my soul. My grades made me depressed, my friends problems made me depressed. My home life was still something I didn't want to deal with. I hated being at school and I hated being home. I just couldn't get away from myself or my problems and just kept building and building until one day I finally snapped. I was going to end it. I don't know why I came to this conclusion. That it would solve all my problems. That the inner torment I suffered would just go away with one swipe of a knife across my throat. I thought it would be a hell of a way to go. I think it was around the last few days of seventh grade. Maybe it was summer already. I don't know. But it was somewhere around there. Anyways. It was sometime before my mother got home and my brother. I was alone in the house, which wasn't all that surprising. I dunno what set me off but I decided to kill myself. This life I had was destroying me. I was fighting someone I wouldn't win against myself. I went into the kitchen and looked through the drawers, trying to find my solution. I found the largest knife in the drawer and thought about what my mother would think when she saw me bleeding all over the kitchen floor that I always ended up cleaning. I thought about how my family would react, wondering if they would try to see if they could save me. I thought I was beyond saving. I thought I was beyond being loved and cared for. I wasn't completely worthless. The cool metal pressed against my skin and for a moment, a few seconds, I really considered moving my arm and dragging the blade across. But then I realized something. I was being selfish in trying to run away. To hide away in the most ultimate of ways. I had been flirting with suicidal thoughts for awhile, but when that moment came, I realized how stupid and selfish I was really being. Did I really want my mother to suffer? My brother? No, I didn't. I just wanted the sadness and pain to end. But this wasn't the way to go about it. So I put the knife back into the drawer, went into my room, and went to sleep for a few hours. It was a serious turn of events that set off what happened my last year at the middle school amongst my tormentors who were going to learn that you don't fuck with someone who's got nothing to lose anymore. It was the year that my anger finally surfaced. It was the year I stopped letting myself get stepped on and hurt. It was the year that I scared everyone instead of being afraid. I was finally on my way to being free. And I didn't care who I destroyed in the process.