In the summer of 2007, it had gotten intense. My life was flipped upside down. Life as I knew it was coming crashing down on me. I had no idea how to control what was going through my mind. I thought it was the end of me as a whole and who I was.



The summer started like a normal one, but then I had learned that my loving, supporting, and caring parents weren’t happy anymore with each other. This 5’5, funny acting, hard working man, my father,was arguing with a woman that is 5’4, glasses wearing, psychotic at times, angry at her life, my mom. They were always fighting, day and night, blaming each other. My father ended up working more overtime at his work to just get away from the madness. As the house got more and more uncomfortable, I felt that I had created this tension between them. I figured if I could just be gone and have I not been in the picture, they wouldn’t be fighting. Every night I was crying myself to sleep,so finally I had reached my breaking point of no return. I found something so sharp, that it would cut through anything. I took the shiny, sharp, and pointy object, and slit an opening into this blood flowing vein. For that moment in time it felt better and it eased my pain. The next day I told myself I wouldn’t do it again, so I shouldn’t show anyone. Well I had done it again. It was like I had no control, but in a way I did. My mind was racing and I had gotten to the point where nothing mattered to me anymore. The things that I had so deeply enjoyed, I started to hate and the people I was close to I resented and didn’t want to be around. My tipping point got so high, that I tried taking pills to end my pain and also cutting slits into my flesh of skin. I was so out of it that my best friend started to see a drastic change in me and then she found my wound that I had carved into myself. From that point on she watched me and told me to go get help. She was my protector, my guardian angel; if it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be here writing this. Anyways, my best friend called my house to try to wake up anyone who would answer. She hoped someone would notice that something was wrong and go save me from what I was attempting. She called my cell and talked me through it and begged me not to do it. She told me it wasn’t worth dying over. She made me promise to go tell my parents and I kept the promise, because I would never go against my promise to my best friend. So, I finally sat down and showed them my badly, indented slits. That’s when one of them realized that what their problems that they had, were slowly affecting me. They put me in therapy,and my doctor had reached a point were I had to go into a mental institution.I fought to not go in but, then I found myself looking at four white walls. For the past month I had to sit down and talk to nurses and tell them what I was thinking and what happened. The nurses really helped me get through this insanity that I could no longer control. They taught me how to cope and how to do other things,rather than cutting huge slits in my arm. Today, I have a person now that I can confide in. I know that my life isn’t perfect but, when you look at life, who’s life is perfect anyway? You just have to learn to be happy with what you have and what makes you happy. I have to learn to love myself first before I can really love others. I have to worry about myself first before I help others. The most I got out of this horrific event, is that things always have a brighter side and to look on the happy side of things.