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Me, Myself, and Love
Never have I been bullied, pushed aggressively against a locker, or talked about in an offensive way to my face. I’ve never had to hit somebody to massive extent because of what they may have to say about me, or certain things. Peer pressure was never an issue for me because I was raised not to follow the crowd, but to be the leader. People already knew not to mess with me, not because I might look like I would beat someone up, but the way I position myself, it practically already ‘dings’ in their heads. The only issue I faced growing up, was realizing my own self-worth.
Eighth grade is when it all started. My last year in middle school, around the time most pre-teens would begin judgement against themselves and other people. “Am I pretty”? “Is SHE pretty”? “I wish I looked more like that”. What I really wish is that I would have listened to my mom every time she told me that I was God’s creation and he made me special in every way possible, but the thing is, I didn’t care about God that much as I may have been supposed to. Growing up in a Christian family was and still is hard for me. Although my dad isn’t as religious, and refuses to go to church, my mom, on the other hand, is what some people may call, ‘a Jesus freak’. Almost everything she talked about had to have the bible included with her sentences. Even though I was, am still a faithful believer, I’m not as religious as I used to be. Looking in the mirror bothered me, so I tried to avoid it as much as possible. I cried more than normal, wondering why I couldn't have the bodies of the bikini models in the magazines.
There were always two sides of the shoulder, like one would see on tv. The devil, the part that would tell me that I wasn’t worthy of being on this earth because I didn’t look perfect like ‘everyone else’ might have, and the angel, the one who would tell me that I shouldn't care what other people do or say because I was beautiful on the inside and the outside, which reminded me a lot of my mother because she would express those same words to my little sister and I all the time. The side I would normally listen to the most, was the devil’s. Along with the depression that came because of the way I didn't believe that my looks met other people’s standards, my mom and I didn’t get along so well. I loved her, and she loved me, but I was a teenager. I wanted to do a lot of things that other teenagers were doing, like going to the mall with friends without parent supervision or wearing makeup. There was one point in my life where we got into a big argument about something I wanted to do, but she wouldn't give me her permission and I cried ceaselessly on my bed for hours. I didn't like the life I was living at that moment and I felt like nobody cared. I then walked to my dresser and found a pencil sharpener and insisted on taking it apart. That was the first time I picked up a razor.
For a couple times, cutting hurt. Of course it hurt. It was painful, but I tried to push through it. I got used to it after a while and everytime I went to the bathroom to pick up that razor, my mind would leave the world of suffering and the endless agony of self-pity I was feeling. The razor was my best friend. Whenever I was sad or upset about something, I felt like it was always there. It made me gain more pain, but it also took pain away at the same time. Bracelets would help a lot. They kept my parents, or my friends from seeing the cuts and asking a bunch of questions that I would refused to answer, but eventually, my mom found out. We talked about it and she cried all night. Of course, she tried to help me with scriptures and inspirational quotes to try and make me feel better about myself, but it didn't help much. Even though I promised her I wouldn't continue to cut, It still went on for two more years behind her back. As of November, 2015, I'm currently almost five weeks clean and I’m expecting it to stay that way. I believe that everyone in the world’s self-confidence should be raised higher. Listening to the devil’s side of your shoulder only makes things worse, so you should love yourself because there's only one you and nobody’s perfect no matter what someone or something else might say.
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What Inspired me to write this piece is the fact that people struggle every day with self-esteem issues and sometimes instead of dealing with it in better ways, they use pain to help with other pain, and they need to know that they aren't the only ones dealing with these type of things, but there are more efficient ways of dealing with it.