My Story

When things went wrong
Things first started going wrong only a month after I turned 10. In January of 2000 my parents "split up" or "separated". Before that I had been a happy, confident kid. Okay, so I didn't have that many friends, but I had a few close pals that stuck by me (some of which are still sticking with me today). There were other kids in my class who hated me (I still don't know why...but I was a weird kid) but I didn't care. I had my few friends, and I didn't care what other people thought of me, I knew who I was, and I was happy...but when my parents separated I changed. Before I had been "bright" and "intelligent" and although I'm still in the top groups, my schoolwork went "downhill" as my teacher said when he spoke to me about it. After my parents "separated" I grew quiet, I didn't trust my parents - they'd wrecked my life, and even now, over 5 years later, and they're actually divorced, I still don't trust them. I hated it. I wanted my dad to come home, and I was crying myself to sleep most nights. When my dad moved out, you see, because I was only 10, they hadn't told me what was going on...they told me that "Daddy was moving away for a little while...a couple of months" which obviously wasn't true. But I was 10. I believed them. I trusted them. I missed my dad terribly, now I think I'm lucky that, although my parents are divorced, my dad still lives fairly close and I can still see him and stuff...but back then, I was a 10 year old kid who wasn't used to her dad not being around... After a while I got up the courage to tell my mum how much I missed dad. She said "Oh dear, well, I'm sure of you ask him nicely he'll come home." Which I knew/thought to be untrue. I told my oldest brother (I have 4, but back then I was very close to my oldest brother) what mum had said. He would have been 19 or 20 and he told me that he wouldn't, he said that he'd spoken to dad who had said that it was "unlikely that he and my mum would ever get back together". So I just went on with life, hating the way I was always being pushed from one house to another by my parents (although it wasn't actually as bad as some kids have it when their parents separate), hating the way my parents had lied to me. I only told 1 person how much I hated my parents being "separate" and that was over a year after it happened.

Secondary school...things got even worse
When I moved up to secondary school things changed - in most of my classes I was separated from my friends because of ability groupings. I had hardly any friends at all...and again, there were a few people in my class who hated me (most of them have now come to accept me). I was almost 12 when I started secondary school (year 7). I walked to school with people I knew, but didn't know particularly well. One of them said that I had hairy legs, that I should shave my legs...so I started shaving my legs... this was really when I started self harming, though I didn't realise for another 2 years. When I was shaving my legs I used to deliberately cut myself, I used to go over the same part of my leg again and again until it bled. I knew what I was doing, but I didn't, and didn't want to (which probably doesn't make sense). I convinced everyone (even myself) that the cuts on my legs were from shaving...well...they were, sort of. This carried on in year 8 too...not really getting worse, but not stopping. I still had very few friends.

Year 8 and 9 - things got worse again
When I was in year 8, we moved house - now that dad had moved out, our house was too big. We moved quite a long way. Instead of walking to school, I had to catch the train...but I didn't mind. I got friends with Cat. She was the best person ever so far as I was concerned. She rocked. I wanted to be like her. She was my BEST FRIEND. I loved her as her best friend, and she loved me as her best friend. She was the year above me, but that didn't matter, I had few friends in my class and year, so she was my best friend. The other people I and Cat sat with scared me slightly at first...but Cat looked after me, she made the others be nice to me, bought me sweets and chocolate, made sure I was included in the conversation etc. She was great. Well. I thought she was. I trusted her you see. But when I was in year 9 (so just turning 14) she started bullying me. My best friend. Bullied me. it started off with small things...I was the first person to get off the train in the afternoons, and when I got off, she said "bye, bitch." Everyday, that was my goodbye off the train. Gee and Georgie (2 of Cat's close friends) joined in. they called me "the leech" because they said that I "latched onto people who hated me" or "the dog" because they said I "smelled like a wet dog". Cat continually told me how fat, stupid, ugly, and hated I was. That I had no friends (coincidentally, this was when I started getting more friends in my class and year), that everyone hated me, that no one actually wanted me to get the train... for a whole year. And after a while I started believing her. I know it was stupid, but she was my best friend...why would she lie to me? I started crying myself to sleep at night again. I cried most days after school, sometimes I even broke down in lessons. I normally managed not to cry until I got off the train and was round the corner, out of sight...but a few times I didn't. Like the day I was sat with Jess (2 years younger than me). We were waiting for the others to get on the train so we could go and sit with them...Cat got on. She came over to me and said something like "I'm not the one with the problem. It's you and your attitude to everyone on the train" and stuff like that. I started crying as soon as she left our carriage. Jess and I walked down to everyone else. I was still crying, and they comforted me. Also, some other year 10s (Cat's year) asked me if I was okay, they asked what was wrong. I kept saying nothing until they pushed an answer out of me. All I said was "Cat." And they got furious. They were mad with her, I don't think they actually said anything to her, but they comforted me. I was so upset...but Cat said that was "attention seeking" and "trying to make people feel sorry for me". There was a couple of times when I ended up crying on the train, but that was what she said. I was good friends with Kay, another girl who caught the train. She often stood up for me, even though she was friends with Cat. She's a lesbian. She and her girlfriend Charlotte caught the train. Charlotte used to pay for a taxi up to school, and I often went in it with them. After a while, Cat started saying I was a lesbian (I'm actually straight, though I have no problem with lesbians, gays, or bis - my boyfriend is bi) and that I was in love with Kay and/or Charlotte (at the time, from around April 04 until February this year I actually loved a guy called Mark). Also she said that I loved Shane. He was a guy who got on the train who I fancied briefly in year 8. He was a nice guy, he stood up for me too, but I didn't fancy him. Also she was contradicting herself - saying I was a lesbian, while at the same time that I fancied Shane. After a while, 2 of my best friends (who still look after me even now) practically forced me to tell my head of year. It didn't help. The school did nothing at all about it. In May (I think) of 2004, after a few months of Cat's bullying, I started cutting myself properly. I cut my arms, my wrists, my hands and even, once, my stomach. Cat was always making "jokes" about killing me. If she was bored on the train home she'd start singing songs she'd just made up about killing me and how fun it would be. If anyone said anything to her, told her that she shouldn't say/do that, she said "but it's only a joke". One time she brought a knife into school. She showed it to us. She didn't exactly threaten me with it. But she made sure that I saw it, and told us stories about how easy it as to cut people with it. I told the school about that too...they didn't do anything.

Year 10 - now
In December of 2004, the train times changed. Most of the others were okay - they lived at larger stations than Kay and I, but because Kay and I lived at small stations the trains were too late for me to catch them anymore. It was good in some ways - it got me away from Cat, Gee and Georgie, but I had made some good friends on the trains, and I miss them. Also, it was too late. Cat had already destroyed me.

A new start
Just because it was a new start doesn't make much better...I started catching the bus to school. I became good friends with Kirsty and Sarah. Ever since I've known them, there's been something going on. Kirsty used to come to me, bitch about Sarah and tell me Sarah had been bitching about me, and Sarah used to come to me bitching about Kirsty saying that Kirsty had been bitching about me. It was hard, because I didn't know who to trust and believe.

Suicide
Kirsty was going out with Darren, Mark's stepbrother. Kirsty is in my drama class, and we quickly became best friends, as I was friends with Darren too. I trusted Kirsty, gave up so much time and energy for her...helped her. At this time I was cutting almost every day. I told her that I self harm, and she said, "oh, yeah, everyone does it sometimes." And I didn't say anything, but I was thinking "yeah, but 'sometimes' isn't everyday." She told me that she self harms. She doesn't. She's only ever cut twice. And both times were mostly only for attention. In October 04, (I was best friends with Kirsty by this time) Darren wanted to dump her. But Kirsty had told me that she'd get depressed and suicidal if he dumped her...so I stopped him dumping her. I just wouldn't let him. One Saturday in January 05, Kirsty, Mark, Robin (my little brother) and I were hanging out together. I got fed up of Kirsty and Mark flirting for ages, so I went off with another friend for a while. I went out that evening with a friend and didn't get home until late. The next day, I went to Winchester to meet up with some friends. Robin spent the day with Mark...and to my surprise, when I got home, Kirsty was there too. Kirsty and Mark were acting weird, but I ignored it. Mark got a phone call from his mum saying he had to go home. I went upstairs to do some chemistry coursework. Kirsty and Robin came into my room, and Kirsty kept talking to Robin about "their special secret", but every time I asked, she said, "oh, it doesn't matter" or "nothing" so I gave up. When she went home, I got the truth out of Robin: Kirsty was cheating on Darren with Mark. After what I'd done for her... After everything I'd done for her... I cut. Really badly. I felt stupid for trusting her. I felt stupid for stopping Darren dumping her (it hurt Darren too). I felt bad, because I could have stopped her hurting Darren. I felt stupid for being so nice to her when she was going to do this to me. Which meant she probably had bitched about me behind my back. The next day I was really down (understandably). At the bus stop in the morning (Kirsty gets on the bus several stops before me) Sarah kept asking me what was the matter. I kept saying nothing...until eventually saying cryptically; "it's just that I know something about Kirsty that I shouldn't." When the bus came, 2 came at once, both the right buses. One was very crowded (it had Kirsty on it too) so I didn't want to get it. Sarah got on Kirsty's one though. I got the one behind. Sarah must have said something to Kirsty about it though, because when I got off the bus outside school they were stood there waiting for me. Kirsty said, "What do you know about me?" I said, "nothing, don't worry, it doesn't matter." She kept asking but I walked off into school. She said, "fine, I wont be your friend unless you tell me." (Quite a childish sort of threat really) and I just said, "fine then, don't be." She and Sarah just stood there, shocked but then they said, "well, don't bother coming to sit with us then." And I just walked off...went into school and burst into tears. The next day, Tuesday 18th January, I couldn't face it again. It felt like Cat all over again...a best friend and someone I'd trusted turning on me, betraying me, bitching to me and about me. I couldn't face it. I skived off school. I went to my dad's house. Thing was though, dad came home for lunch that day. He hardly ever comes home for lunch, but that day he did. And I was there. But I managed to pretend that I wasn't feeling well and stuff...so he took me home. And I went to bed. When I went to the paper shop that afternoon (I do both morning and afternoon paper rounds) I brought paracetamol and nurofen. That night, I took them. All of them. You see, I couldn't face another year of what Cat put me through. I couldn't. The next morning, at around 6.15 a.m. I woke up, and started puking. Robin did my morning paper round. I was getting ready for school, when I started puking again. My mum came into the bathroom and asked what I was doing. I said, "getting ready for school." And she told me not to be silly and that I was ill and not going to school. I was puking all day. Some time in the morning I texted my best friend. I told her what I'd done - she self harms, and has overdosed before. She told my tutor, who, when she had time, told the deputy head teacher what I'd done. Who, in turn, phoned my mum and told her. She came and had a go at me. She told me that "there's enough problems in the world without me adding to them." (Which I think was a little unfair, since I was trying to rid the world of me, the problem.) I'd taken 16 paracetamol and 12 nurofen. My best friend, Jess (different Jess from the one on the train) thought I should go to hospital. My mum thought I'd be fine because I was puking so much. When Jess got home from school, she phoned me and said that she really thought I should go to hospital, even if it was just to be checked. But that was during part of the day when I was feeling slightly better, I'd stopped puking for a while, and wasn't feeling so ill. But a couple of hours later, at around 5.30 p.m. I started feeling worse again. I told mum and said that maybe I should go to the hospital. Mum, after much debate, phoned NHS direct, who said that I should go to the hospital and get checked. So, my mum and I got the bus to hospital, and arrived at A & E at around 7.00 p.m. I saw lots of nurses between then and when I was moved onto a ward at 11.00 p.m. and they all asked the same questions - why? When? How many? Etc. at around 9.00 they took several blood samples to be taken for testing, which takes around an hour and a half. They came back at 10.30-ish and showed that the paracetamol levels in my blood were far too high. I was put on a parvalax drip for 24 hours. It went in on the underside of my elbow, because if it didn't go there it would have had to go by my wrist...which was covered with bracelets to cover cuts and scars. It's more uncomfortable having it by the elbow. I had been throwing up all day. And, the parvalax made me throw up even more at first - it's a common reaction. My first drip was about half an hour long. At around 11 when I moved onto the ward my first drip ran out, then they put me on the second, which was about 4 hours long; at 3 in the morning it had to be changed again. I take my sweatband and bracelets off at night so that my cuts can get some air...and the doctor who changed my drip noticed my cuts. She talked to me for about an hour. The drip she put me on was about 8 hours. In the morning, having been up until after 4 a.m., I wake late, at around 8.30. The others in my small ward had already had their breakfast, but I wasn't hungry, so the one piece of toast my day nurse, Heather, made me was plenty. There was nothing to do. I was on a drip, so if I went anywhere I had to take it with me, but I was too exhausted and weak to do anything anyway. Jess came to see me on the Thursday. Before she came my mum had been to see me, and when she left my dad came. He had only just been told what had happened. He was with me from around 8.00 p.m. until 11.00-ish when my drip finished and I was allowed to go. During my full day in hospital I had had to see a psychiatrist. They thought I was crazy because I wanted to die. I had the rest of the week of school.

Working hard
I forgave Kirsty, but I don't want to become close friends with her again. The week I came back to school after the overdose, I was waiting with her for another friend of ours after school. She casually said, "I've got a secret." And I said, "oh, right, what is it?" and she said, "no, I'm not going to tell you because you'll be mad at me." I pursued it, and after a while she said, "it's to do with me and paracetamol." Now, this was the week after I had nearly died (I would have died if I hadn't gone to hospital) from a paracetamol overdose. So I said, "Kirst, what the hell have you done?!" and she told me that she'd overdosed. But when I said, "how many have you taken?" she said, "5 I think." Which, admittedly you shouldn't take all together, but is not an overdose. She scared the hell out of me for 5 paracetamol? The rest of the day she kept pretending to feel ill, she kept telling us (Sarah and I) that her eyesight was going blurry, and stuff like that, which probably wasn't even true. She also said, "I think I'm going to be sick." Which was one of the things that gave her away most - paracetamol overdoses are bad because it DOESN'T make you puke, and the paracetamol is absorbed. I puked because of the nurofen I took - which, as the doctors said, "irritated my stomach". She only went out with Mark for about 2 weeks. Then he dumped her. A little while after, he went out with me, this was the second time Kirsty cut. I remember because it was one of the reasons I dumped Mark after only a week. She cut MW (Mark's initials) into the top of her wrist. She showed it off though. When she cut the first time, she cut all down the topside of her lower arm, (not bad cuts, but still cuts) and she showed them off. It wasn't particularly warm weather, but she wandered around with her sleeves pushed up so that everyone could see...then came moaning to me when teachers or friends mentioned it to her!

Mark
I loved him. I loved him for almost a year...but he's not actually a nice guy. I dumped him because me going out with him was upsetting Kirsty, but also because he spent all his time with his friends acting like I wasn't his girlfriend, and all his time alone with me trying to force me into stuff I wasn't, and still am not ready for.

Now
Now. I am trying to look to the future. Cat has finished school and hopefully I won't ever see her again. I would like to see her again in some ways though, to tell her I'm sorry for whatever I did to annoy her so much, to see if we could be friends again, but I doubt it will happen. I want her to know that I've forgiven her though. Things are, in some ways, looking up. I have lots of friends, in and out of school, I have a boyfriend who I love, and loves me in return, and I am doing reasonably well at school. I am trying to stop self harming, and, sort of, getting there. I know there are people who are there for me, and who care about me. In some ways, I am also regaining my trust for my parents. I doubt that will ever fully come back, and I will probably always keep secrets from them, but they are not so bad, and may even one day understand. I don't tell them much, but I am starting to tell them more. Sarah has left my school, and I don't see her very much - no more bitching triangles! In some ways I miss her - she was a nice kid really...but she could be a bitch, and she was quite selfish sometimes. I have my own self harm and depression help site, (which needs more members!) http://hurtprincess.proboards42.com which I hope is helpful. I am trying to move on, to help people. I am a bully buster at my school; I want to help other kids who are being bullied because I can understand - I've been there, and I know how hard it is to cope, especially when you do what I did and still do; bottle it all up inside.

Jakass
Jakass is my boyfriend. He lives miles away from me, so we've never actually met, but I love him, and have helped him through some crap recently and he helps me.

I hope this isn't too triggering, but it's the truth. I hope it doesn't upset anyone, and I hope it helps people understand.

Take care all.
Love,
Rhiannon