Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is the You seeking advice section right?

Seek for help without being judged?
Without people thinking that I’m just here saying this to get attention?
Because I’m not. No I don’t want attention. I want help.
I need someone to help me with what to do.
Someone that isn’t my family. Someone, that isn’t involved at all.

And at this point you’re wondering, what’s up with this girl, and why does she need help?

It’s a long story.
So why not start at the beginning?

Years passed. Nothing significant. I stayed in that state of mind for over a year. Then I kinda moved on. I went to high school, made friends with people. I learned how to survive without another half. I was still miserable though.


Okay not that many years passed. At this point, It’s the summer of my Sophmore year of High School.

I went to my church Bible school again, because it’s what the teens of the church did. We went to bible school and invited guests.

That’s the day that I first saw him. Yeah. Him. His grandmother came to our church, so she brought her two grand kids to vbs that week. Him and his sister. He was older than me, but still younger than a lot of the teens there.

I ignored him. I didn’t talk to him. Why should I? He was just a guest to a vbs.

As I said I ignored him. But I didn’t. I just didn’t talk to him. I watched him. I listened to him talk to people. And you know what I told myself? “You’re gonna marry that boy someday, or at least date him.”

When he started coming to church on a normal basis, he joined our drama team, his mom joined the adult choir. He stayed after with a bunch of the other teens while the adults practiced. He started talking and none of the other teens understood what he was talking about.

Anime. Something I could relate to finally! We started talking the rest of the time. Went home and we talked even more on facebook. 2 weeks passed.

He asked me to be his girlfriend, and I was so excited about it. I said yes.

October 24.

Eventually I told my mum. We started hanging out every Sunday and most Saturdays. He came to my concerts, I went to his. We were together as much as possible.

Yeah we made out. What teenage high school couple doesn’t?

Months passed. Everything was perfect. Until Febuary. Valentines day. He forgot about it completely and crushed me. But I forgave him quickly enough.

We went about like normal. Or so I though.

The next Sunday, it all started taking a downfall. Yeah. He started touching me inapproprietly. I’m not going into those details. I hated it. Every minute of it. But how could I have stopped him? He was stronger than me. I let him do it. No. no sex. Not that I remember, and I remember all of it. Although several times it did almost happen. And I hated it.


Okay you’ve read this a while. Look away. Go do something else. Come back.

So now you wonder why I didn’t break up with him? He seems kinda horrific? He was. He had been suicidal before. He told me he stopped those thoughts though and had for a while. I didn’t want ot be the reason why he went back to being suicidal though. So I didn’t want to end it with him.

The August 23. I was at his house again. He got angry again. So… rageful.

He grabbed my leg again. Later on my arm. Those cliché movies where the girl’s head gets slammed into the head board or something? My head got slammed into the foot board, because we were sitting in the floor. And let me tell you. It hurt.

He told me something else then. That he had been still smoking weed. Pot. Whatever you want to call it. Drugs. He lied to me. He told me when we started dating that he had been clean since before bible school started.

I went home that day. I told my mom, no not everything. Never everything. Just about my leg. Just about the drugs. I never dared mention the head or arm or anything else. I don’t know if I should have or not. But now it’s irrelevant.

We broke up. Even after all that he had done to me. I was still devastated. I was madly in love with this boy. And I couldn’t be with him now. We were forced to see each other at church.

I kept on smiling at church, acting like I was glad. But I started wearing black. More black. Always black.

Eventually he just vanished from church, and I figured I’d never hear anything more from him.

I was so very wrong though.

You’re still reading this? I admire you. And I’m glad that you’re still listening to me. No one else can hear me.

My parents felt sympathy for me for a while. We continued arguing though. At least 6 times a week we were arguing. It always resulted in my running into my room bawling.

March Madness. Of My Junior Year of High school. Yeah, 7 months later.
It was a good night, though my dad was gone. Just me and my mum in the house. We were having a blast just hanging out and talking about well just stuff. Me confusing her with my physics homework.

Mum was on Facebook talking to other people when suddenly, my ex-boyfriend popped up on chat. It was his Facebook and the way this person talked it seemed like the new him (the new him being post breakup) however, this person claimed to be my ex’s Dad. After a while of going back and forth, my mom told him he was drunk and needed to just put everything down and sleep it off or whatever.

That probably only set him off more.

A few more months have passed since then. 4 months.
Within those months I may have went back into my depression. I made a new friend though. She’s like my sister. And it turns out, although she is younger, she knows how I feel because she is the same as me. Depressed. Cutter. Suicidal. But doesn’t want to tell parents.

Yeah suicidal. Everyone who read other things and thought I was getting better? That was a lie. A mask. I wore it every day. No one knew.

Same as before. I cut myself. This time suicide was a valid option. It was something I took the effort to look into. Maybe OD. Maybe hanging. May starving.

I took latin classes as a sophomore, and as a junior I took them also. Yes this backtracks.

August, the start of junior year. That was when I started asking for help. Indirectly.

A boy in my latin class caught me writing in my poetry book one day, he asked if he could read it and I agreed. I would let anyone read it. These were my pleads.

He read them. Then he told me, “These are really good. Where do you get your inspiration from?” I shrugged. He didn’t ask any more questions about that.

I wrote more. I wrote about suicide often. I wrote about cutting.

And guess what he started doing?

He took my book, asked permission, then he started writing poems in it too.


Now don’t think of some goth kid. He’s a ginger. And always smiling.

We started writing poems back and forth. You all are thinking how adorable it is. And well it was. But he was my best friend. Nothing more.

He wrote a poem, that said “I hope you’ll find the need, to read these words when sad I plead.”

And I did. Every time. And it worked. I didn’t go kill myself then.

But months passed.

March. Of Junior year. The threat incident.
He wrote some.

April, he wrote one.

May he stopped. No more.

June, school ended. He left.


He was my one thread holding on. Those poems. The poems were my lifeline.


And now those pointless poetic conversations, mean nothing.

Where the girl kills herself? I’m that girl.

I’m on the edge of doing so. I’m ready. I’m ready to give up. And I’m sorry.

All of my letters are written again. This time to new people. They’re all in the notebook under my bed. I’m ready. But, I’m not. I’m still begging. Which makes it seem as if I just want attention. But honestly, I’m afraid to end my life.

Sometimes I think it’s the only solution though. The only way to end the suffering is by ending my life.

Then to make matters worse, today, I looked at His profile. My ex’s facebook.

Yeah. He saw me Saturday. He put it on facebook that he saw me Saturday.

A few weeks before he wrote that he was going to take his ex, meaning me, and rip all of her, my, hair out and beat my senseless.

The worst part? Why am I so terrified as to telling all of you this story? Why did all of those other little stories matter?



I Never. Left. My. House. Saturday.

Several people have offered help, and their solution?
Music.
Change the music I listen to.

So why not go more into this?

I consider myself a Christian. Yeah. Jesus freak and all here.

So I should fall back on that right? Wrong. I go to a church where the people outcast people who aren't related to them.


I'll mention to you this.
I listen to 99% Christian Music.
SOme of the bands I listen to could be considered main stream, but if looked into the meaning, they could be considered Christian.
I probably only listen to 1, maybe 2 bands who aren't Christian.

And I definitely don't do rap.
The guy. Him. He rapped.
And that's how he delivers his messages to me.
And I won't listen to rap.

I won't start trying to rap either.

So let's just say, music isn't an option to be very helpful.

Thank you. to everyone who reads this.

Thank you. for helping me when I saw there was no other way.

Thank you. For giving me your time.

Thank you. For understanding.

Thank You.

For saving me.

Tonight, I was ready. I was ready to go, especially after being ignored the entire day when I was out and about, with no one realizing what I was thinking.

Then. I saw this. I got your messages.

I realized, you people, you complete strangers actually care.
People cared.

You saved me. And all I can say, is thank you.