Thursday, September 30, 2010

The cat did it

I was 17 when I was admitted to the hospital for the first time. I had been cutting myself for about a year and had to get stitches, it was so bad. I was diagnosed with anorexia and depression. Hurting myself took my mind off being depressed. Watching the blood drip was calming.



I cut myself more when I was drinking. I drank all the time. At my aunt’s wedding, I snuck alcohol all night and got drunk. Of course I couldn’t hide it from my parents. My dad had to drive me home, and I got really sick. My parents didn’t know what to do. They sat down and talked to me about not drinking, but I didn’t care. I told them a bunch of lies about how it was the first time I drank, and I would never do it again. I lied so much to them. I was constantly making up excuses about the cuts on my arms and legs. My reason was always the same: the cat did it.


3 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's scary how much i can relate to this - the cutting, the drinking, the lying! Thank you for being so brave and sharing your story.

Anonymous said...

I think you should write a book. I am so impressed with how far you have come, and with your willingness to share your pain and your triumph. So often the self destructive behaviors work in tandem - drinking, cutting, starving. When we feel awful, some will do anything to numb the pain.

melessa said...

thank you! :)