This is where the story gets hard. This was the most difficult year of my life.
Cassie and Becca are my best friends. We were in this strange love triangle, and I was the odd one out when it came to them two, and Becca was the odd one out when it came to Cassie and I. She was the leader. She ran the show. I have been cutting for 2 years by this time. It's summertime, and I spent my summers at my mom's house. I admitted to Cassie that my half-brother had been sexually abusing me during the summer, attempting to have sex with me, which didn't work. For the sake of you knowing the truth, he was too big. I was too small. He couldn't fit inside me and wasn't strong enough to force it. Cassie decided she was going to MyYearBook my brother and ask him if it was true. He said no and that I was a lying bitch. I knew his password for his account, and I saw the messages. I started cutting worse. She and Becca both started harrassing me online telling me that I should just kill myself.
So I tried. My first suicide attempt was at my mom's house. I took 9 random pills that were in my mom's bathroom (my stepdad takes a lot of medications) and cut my thigh open pretty bad. I still have the deep scars it left behind. I also met a boy this summer at church. He was a great guy. He tried to help me stop but he didn't have the chance.
After being sent home for my freshman year of high school, October rolls around. Cassie and Becca are still on my case and still telling me to kill myself. So I tried again. I cut myself from wrist to elbow on both arms. My dad found out, told me I couldn't be friends with those girls anymore (no shit), grounded me, and spanked me so hard he left bruises up my back.
I did stop my constant cutting at that point. I couldn't afford for him to find it again and I was afraid of what he would do the next time he found out. So I did it secretly and only once in a great while. The school year rolls by and April comes along. My dad ungrounds me and lets me go to Military Ball. Looking back at those pictures embarassed me so much. That's when I started weighing myself. In my 8th grade letter to myself, I was 5'3" and 108. The next year, I was 5'6" and 133. I was horrified. I was unhappy. I started to hate my body and fast. I got my breasts early. By the time I was 13 I was already a C cup. I couldn't stand it.
At the start of my sophomore year I was even fatter. I had started the school year at 145. I was so close to being overweight that I was crying about it every day. I started to change my eating habits slowly. I met a boy and we started dating in November of that year. I thought I loved him. It was the first of the 3 big relationships that I've had in my life. He was a little younger than me, and he was a Freshman. I lost my virginity to him when I was 15. He didn't know much about me until the next school year, and didn't mind my little dieting. By the time I was 16, I was back down to 133.
