The Story of a Tattered Mind (ongoing)

Chapter 3

Dear Diary,

Today wasn't the greatest of days...

I don't have any friends, and I'm not well liked. Leah and Callie make that prominently known. Usually the snickering and whispering don't bother me, but for some reason today... They did.

But they aren't the only reason for my sadness.

Mom and Fred sided with Molly over something she started. I understand that I'm seven years older than she is, and it isn't fair to compare myself to her, but even when I was her age I still did my best to clean up after myself. I also never acted like a little bitch like she does (and gets away with it).

It just hurts that she has little to no consequences for her behavior, whereas if it were Ryan or me at her age, we would get anything we found fun taken away.

Life has been feeling so unfair lately...

I can't stop crying.

I don't know how much more of it I can take.

With one final tear drop on my full diary page, I closed the book before hiding it underneath my pillow - it's usual hiding spot, which to be far wasn't the smartest. I collapsed into my pillows, soaking the pillowcases with my tears as I continued to sob.

I was mad at the world. Why was it so hard on me? Was I not a good girl? I did my homework, I did my chores (and more than I needed to on top of that), I never talked back... But why did it feel like it was continuously punching me in the face? I couldn't even pick myself up.

I felt so alone and so smothered by my sadness that I didn't know how to release it - or if I was even capable of releasing it.

It was stupid of me (I'm very aware of that now), but I didn't know what else to do. I had read of things that others had done to themselves to release their pain. As they did it, they mentioned it didn't really hurt. They were unable to feel it due to the intense emotions that they were feeling. At the moment, I thought if I tried it, I wouldn't feel a thing like others hadn't, and I would be able to bleed out the heaviness.

I had taken an earring that was laying on my dresser. It was laying right there in front of me, and I was so tempted.

"I can do it," I whispered to myself through my blubbering tears. "You have to get better, Haven..."

It wasn't a way for me to get better. There were much better and helpful ways to cry out for help, but that - that wasn't it.

But at the time, I didn't know what else to do.

After grasping the earring with the little tip in my hand, I sat in the middle of my bed with my legs folded underneath me like a pretzel. The tip was pressed to my skin - not enough to do damage, but enough for me to feel that it was there. With one swipe, I would be able to do what I intended to do.

But I hesitated. Deep down, I knew it was the wrong way for me to handle things. Yet, in the back of my mind, it felt so right.

I did swipe it, but all it left was a scratch on my skin. No blood was drawn, no permanent damage. I know I didn't do it right, but after I scratched myself with the earring, I knew that I had made a mistake. It wasn't the right thing to do. It wasn't the right way to release my sadness.

Although I was upset with my mom, I really needed her hug. I needed help. I was unable to sit in my sadness alone any longer than I had been.

I just wanted my mommy.

I kept my head down as I walked to my parent's bedroom. The door was shut, which meant they were both in there. My stepdad was probably doing the three S's while my mom relaxed on their bed. Even though I felt like I was intruding on something, I still needed my mom. I needed to tell her what I hear just done and what I could have potentially done to myself. It was embarrassing to admit it, but her comfort was all I needed in that moment.