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Last Night At My Therapy Session…

Well last night at my therapy session, I was interviewed about my past of self-harm and bulimia. My therapist had me sign permission for it to be recorded. I was perfectly okay with this seeing as she was going to play it and make a few copies for local young-adult groups in the area. She also will be sending them to a few teen groups. This was the conversation:

Therapist: So I know you have come a long way since a year ago when we first met. I know you have struggled with self-harm and bulimia since you we’re 10. Now am I correct that they both started at 10?

Me: No, the self-harm started when I was 10. The bulimia started when I was 12.

Therapist: What made you start cutting?

Me: Well, I guess one day it was impulse. I was sick of hiding in my own skin of who I was. My mother always left me home alone since I was 9 so I figured she wouldn’t care or know if I did it. So I went into the bathroom one day and broke one of my dad’s shaving razors. Then I cut. I don’t recall much about that day, but I know I was getting picked on in school for the usual things.

Therapist: What kind of things we’re you picked on for?

Me: Being overweight. My biological father being in prison. Being adopted. Being Autistic. Having ADHD. Having to take medication. Being in special education. Being poor. Living in a trailer even though my adoptive-dad owned the property. I was picked on for how I dressed. I always dressed like a boy. One day my Mom tried to dress me like a girl and then I was picked on for that too, Just because my clothes we’re from Wal-Mart. 

Therapist: Wow, Now I remember you talking about how you we’re always picked on for being in Special Olympics as well. Can you tell me what it was like for you in that program? 

Me: I felt free. When I was doing my sports I felt like no one could harm me. Not my Mom, not my Dad, not the kids at school, no one. It was me, sports, coaches who only supported me, my adoptive-dad, and people just like me there. I felt free.

Therapist: But, you still cut while you we’re in that program, correct?

Me:Yes, I did. Sports alone wasn’t enough. I did track, swimming, skiing, and soft ball. For me they were not enough to keep me stable. I was only happy when I was there. As soon as I left though I would get upset because I would have to go home to my mother.

Therapist: Well let’s jump forward a little to when your mother started with the abuse. Tell me when it started and why please.

Me: It started when I was 11. I came out to her as “Bisexual” because I knew 100% I loved other girls at the time. I was just unsure about boys. All my friends we’re having crushes on boys and I was having crushes on girls. Particularly my friend Christa, Ashley, and Tanya. Then a few girls I would see walking by in the halls at school. I was in 5th grade. We would switch classes to prepare for middle school. One night, I told my brother. I had no choice but to tell him though.

Therapist: Why did you tell him? Why didn’t you have a choice?

Me: I told him because he came into my room and I was passed out. I had been cutting and there was blood all over my carpet in my room because I had cut multiple wounds and lost so much blood that I was faint. It wasn’t deep enough to kill me. Should have gotten stitches but didn’t. He came home from his school and found me like that, shook me and beat the hell outta me to wake me up. Then he asked with shock and anger “Why would you do this?!! Why!!!! Why couldn’t you tell me something was wrong?!!! I’m your fucking brother!!!” 

Therapist: What did you tell him?

Me: I told him “I can’t tell you. If I tell you, you will hate me more than anything you can imagine. Mom will hate me! Dad will hate me! Serena (my little sister) will hate me! You can’t know!”

Therapist: What happened after that?

Me: He calmed down then asked nicely “Will you please tell me? I doubt I will hate you. Whatever it is Mom and Dad can help. You know we can go to Dad if you don’t wanna talk to Mom. Hell, you can tell me. I won’t tell either of them, I promise.”

Therapist: Did you tell him?

Me: yes, I did. I said in a scared, panicky voice”Okay, you promised so I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I’m gay. A lesbian. Not bisexual like I wanted to believe. I figured if I had to tell Mom and Dad I would lie though and say Bisexual. It might go across better. In reality they will still hate me though. You can’t tell them! At All!! You promised!!” then he just looked at me and said “We should tell Mom. We’re living with her anyway! She can help fix this! You’re not gay. Don’t worry. You’re probably just confused.” then I Yelled at him “No! You fucking promised!!! You tell her and I’ll beat your ass!! You can’t fucking tell her!!” He agreed not to then.

Therapist: Did he tell her? If so, what happened?

Me: Oh, he told her. I was so angry. Since Mom and Dad split up (my adoptive dad), Dad took me to all my sporting practice. He was bringing me back from Track and Field. When we got into the house that Mom, Lanny (my brother), Serena, and myself we’re living in, Mom and Lanny we’re sitting on the couch and Mom looked at me and said “Sit down, talk to me? Your brother told me about something and I think you should tell us about it.” Just then I Yelled and cried. I reached for my brother because I was going to hurt him. I yelled at him with pure spite “You fucking promised!! You promised they wouldn’t know!! You’re a liar!! I hate you! I’m gonna fucking kill you!!!!” Just then Dad pulled me back and mom got my brother. She said “We can fix it. You’re confused.” nothing she did ever worked. She tried beating it out of me until I was 17.

Therapist: Did the bullying at school and abuse at home get worse?

Me: yes, tremendously. I was beat down at home and at school. My mom gave up hope and made fun of me at home to try and cope with it. She also beat me if I did anything at all that was “gay” or “sinfully wrong with-in the lifestyle being lived”. She would laugh as she did it too. I never told CPS (child protective services) because I didn’t care. I didn’t care if I lived or died. My body became a canvas for my razor. I later attempted suicide when I was 13.

Therapist: What did you do as an attempt?

Me: I tried to run into traffic. I was in the 7th grade. We could walk off grounds for lunch as long as we we’re 12 or older. So my friend Sindel and I did. She was in the bathroom at the gas station when I decided I would walk outside and try. So I walked outside and started walking into the road. A semi-truck was coming and before it hit me Sindel grabbed me and pulled me back. I started crying then she took me to the school and they called my social worker. By this time we we’re living in Lugington, MI. We had just moved from Mechanicsville, Maryland in July. It was November 11th when I did this. 2006. My social worker came to the school and called a behavioral health hospital called “Pine Rest” in Grand Rapids, MI. She called my mom after doing an evaluation and my mom took me to Pine Rest. She was trying not to cry the whole way. She got me Taco Bell so I could eat, but I didn’t even wanna eat. She convinced me to. I ate half a meal. When we got there and they got me into a room, mom came back to check on me before she had to leave. She grabbed me and was balling her eyes out for the first time ever. I had never seen my mom cry. Never, not once. I know suicide was deep subject with my mom because she had tried to kill herself when my dad (adoptive dad) and her split up when I was 11. She held me tight and cried saying “They’ll help you I promise! You’ll be okay. You need to talk to them about everything. I’m sorry I haven’t been the best to you, but I love you. They will help you. I promise. You will get better. Please don’t do this again. I love you!” then I started crying because she said sorry and I didn’t mean to make my mom cry. I loved her regardless of anything she did.

Therapist: I see. Now we are running short on time, so lets jump forward. Did she ever stop beating you? Did things get better? Do you still struggle with self-harm? Do your mother and you talk? Are you still out as bisexual, or are you openly Lesbian?

Me: She didn’t stop until I was 17 and in independent  living. Things only got worse between us when she realized I wasn’t going to change, that I was a Lesbian and not bisexual. I still struggle with the thoughts and at times, I struggle with self-harm, but it’s not as bad as it was and I am getting better. I haven’t cut in 6 months. My mother and I haven’t talked in over a year. I try to contact her but she wont talk to me. I am now openly Lesbian and living on my own in Des Moines, Iowa.

Therapist: What would you tell someone between the ages 13-17 who is going through this?

Me: Don’t cut. If you do, get help. No one can force you not to cut, because if you wanna do it, you’ll find a way. I just hope if you do cut, you get some help. I hope you talk to someone and be honest about everything. It hurts at first but the therapy does get better. I have struggled with it since I was 10. it’s been 10, going on 11 years of this for me. It is just now getting better. My teen-age years we’re the hardest and not that long ago. You can get through it. You will find a way. you are stronger than what you think. I know ignoring someone who is talking about you and your life seems impossible, but act like you don’t hear them, then when you start thinking about taking your life or hurting yourself, stop. Don’t do it. Drop the razor, don’t tie that noose, unload that weapon, drop anything you can hurt yourself with, dump those pills down the sink or flush them. DO NOT DO IT!!!! Write about it instead. It may not work, but just live hour by hour. Force yourself to think of people you do love and care about. Force yourself to think of things that once gave you joy. Even if you don’t see yourself having a future because you think you will kill yourself, imagine a happy future anyway! imagine yourself married to the man or woman you want. Imagine the family you can have, or the life you want with that person. Think of what you would be doing for work. Make your mind get off the subject. If you can’t stop thinking about it after 15-20 minutes, call someone to get help. DO NOT KILL YOURSELF!!!! DO NOT SELF-HARM!!! YOU’RE TRULY NOT ALONE!!! MANY GO THROUGH THIS!! 

*****NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE- 1800-273-8255****

Don’t let them win! Call them, call the local police station and tell them how you’re feeling. Let them take you to get some help. Please. I may not know anyone who is reading this, or watching this…but I care about you. Every life is important no matter how big or small. I will let you in on a secret. I still get picked on for every little thing people can find. I mainly get picked on for watching Doctor Who, but that show taught me many things. The value of life is awkwardly one of them. Please, don’t kill yourself!!! DO NOT EVEN TRY TO KILL YOURSELF!!!! If you hurt yourself, then get help. Do NOT kill yourself. Get help immediately if you self-harm. I don’t want you to self-harm, but I know firsthand that you can’t always stop someone, but you can try. I DO NOT want you to do EITHER self-harm OR suicide, but please, get help if you start having those thoughts. DO NOT WAIT AND DWELL IN YOUR MIND! I love you all. I may not know you, but I love you and sometimes we just need to hear that. I mean it though. I love you guys, who knows if we ever meet someday with-out realizing it? I don’t want you to risk not being here for that or for the future you can and WILL have.

Therapist: Those are some strong words. With that we will close this session for now. Next week will you come back for the interview about your former eating disorder?

Me: Yes, I will.

♀+♀=<3 just like ♂+♂=<3 and those are just the same as ♂+♀=<3! So shut up and deal with it. Oh and if you’re a dumb ass bigot who can’t understand this…LOVE IS LOVE REGARDLESS OF GENDER!!!!

Me coming out of the closet.

(Me before coming out of the closet at age 12)

*People stare at me/ask if I have a boy crush*


Me:…*thinks to myself* Don’t let them in, don’t let them see Be the good girl you always have to be! Conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know!
……………………
(Me after coming out of the closet 2 months before I turned 13)


Me: *Thinks to myself*…….Well, now they know!!! Let it go, let it go!Can’t hold it back anymore! Let it go, let it go! Turn away and slam the door!!