Ok, I'm going to be honest with you, when my sister told me she wanted me to write for RAIM, I was like “Whoa.... shut the front door”. At the time, I didn't think I had a problem, I was just an average 7th grader...... who was in a mental hospital. But that's way too far in. Ok, so about a year ago, I noticed something was REALLY wrong with me, I would start thinking about things like death, heck, I even slept in a corpse-like pose. But you know, I thought “Eh, I'm going through puberty, it's just an emo phase”. And then I started like... getting angry at myself. Just for messing up on one tiny thing that doesn’t even matter I would get angry and just tell myself “God, I am incredibly stupid” or “Wow, great job Miguel, Is it possible for you to get any dumber?”. One day, I looked in the mirror and I had a gut, I wasn’t even like fat or anything, I just had a gut, and then it started. My first self harm stage, Bulimia. I would go into the school bathrooms and force my fingers down my throat, throwing up and being satisfied afterward. I tried to stop, but I couldn't, I had sort of, an addiction. I would look at myself in the mirror and I would still say “Nope, not good enough, force those fingers down there again ya hippopotamus”. Thankfully, God blessed me with friends that cared about me, and once they found out, they went straight to my teacher. My teacher told my parents and we had a BIG meeting about it, my parents thought I was being rebellious and doing it for attention. Little did they know, it was just the beginning of a big problem. About a month later, I was outside with my friends, I remember this day like it was yesterday. It was November 9th, Two days after my birthday. School got off early and I started hanging out with some friends, then I made the stupid mistake of putting one in a choke hold. I held on for two long and he was sent to the ground, breathing hard. Then everyone started screaming “What the hell man?” and “What the f*** is wrong with you?”. They called me horrible names. My sister went to pick me up that day, and when they told her, it was even worse. She started walking towards the train station to go home, I stayed behind. I was crying and crying, and I looked at the street, suddenly the thought came to me “Fast cars, long street, wanna die?” and I approached the street. I held myself back, I couldn’t kill myself, not for a bad day, but I could punish myself. I grabbed a rock and started throwing it and hitting it against my arm. When I finished, I concealed my bruised arm with my sweater and then decided to walk home with my sister. Diana was pissed and decided to make me WALK home, like WALK. During that walk, I called my friend Dayle, and her sister Faith. I was crying and told them I was going to kill myself. Once I got home they were there, they had bible verses and words of encouragement ready, they were armed and not dangerous.... Oy I suck at jokes.... ANYWAYS!! I still think that the world was laughing at me that day “Happy birthday! Sorry for the late gift, but you get Depression and Suicidal Ideas!!!!”. Fast forward some months later. My friend Molly had cut her arms, I looked at her arms and thought “Maybe I should try that”. I went home and cut my arm three times, I thought it was cool and I got to thinking “Hey, Why kill myself when I can do this?”. So from then on, whenever I felt angry, I went to the bathroom, grabbed my brothers razor, and cut myself. Then one night, My siblings saw that I cut myself, and my parents found out. They thought it was for attention again. In January, I was having the worst day in school, and I thought about killing myself. I had tried to over dose with some antibiotics, and I tried to cut my veins more than once. So I told my friends that it was my last day. They went to the counselor. After about 4 hours of my parents coming over and a therapist, they decided it best to send me to a hospital. My mother wept, my father prayed, and my sister hugged me. Then, I spent the first night at the hospital, scared and alone. During my time at the hospital, I cried and cried, My roommate Hunter being there for me and comforting me, and I still pray to God and thank him for giving me such a great guy to have there for me. Two weeks later, I was home free, but there was still depression lingering in there, now my parents knew it was serious and not for attention. I should have been happy, but I wasn’t. I acted my way out of that hospital and I had known it. Four days later, I cried and cried in my room, rushed to the bathroom, and tried to slit my wrists. Faith's Mom called the police, and to the hospital I went again. During my time at that hospital I decided to actually pray a lot, because I knew people loved me, and if I died who knows who I would have hurt? I thought “Ok, Seems like God can help me, so let's do it” and I started praying more. I got out of that hospital feeling great, and I enjoyed life. Sometimes I lay in bed thinking about my life, and as beautiful as it is, it will be even more beautiful if I keep living. Yes I do still think about death, yes I do still think about killing myself, but I hold on. I have people that love me and care for me. If I can't live for myself, I live for them. I think “My Job here is done, If I were to die, I'd be ok with it, and I'd be happy, I've already helped other people”. But even though I've helped people now, who knows how many people I'll help even more in the future. This is what I'm saying guys, just look at your life, there has to be ONE person at least ONE person that cares about you. Live for them, and when you're ready, start living for yourself. This struggle is something that will make us stronger in the end, yes lots of us have lost this battle, but let's win it, for the kids that died, and for the kids that feel alone. You're not alone, you're never alone, there is someone out there that finds you great. You wake up every morning for a reason, some of you log on to RAIM for encouragement and hope, some of you give life another chance, and it doesn’t even matter what you do but you pick yourself up and do something that’s the important thing, you wake up because there is something for you to do, someone you will inspire, someone that maybe in 5 years, will help you too. You were put on this earth for a reason, doubt yourself all you want, your internal beauty is something no one can deny, if you don't think you're beautiful, or strong, just look at yourself right now, you're reading this, and you're alive. If you've made it this far, you can make it even farther. Keep marching, you brave soldiers. My story may not be the most inspiring, and I don't have it as hard as other people, but it doesn’t matter whether you're story is inspiring, or hard, whatever your story is, it matters. Your LIFE matters. You can become the greatest thing you have ever thought of, it may be hard now, but who knows, in a few years, it'll all seem like a bad dream. I love all of you with all my heart, and please, please, keep marching. God bless all you beautiful strong people, I love you, Goodbye. :)
laura kelly
3/15/2014 11:35:02 pm
WOW! Miguel, you are a phenomenal writer. You have expressed you pain and your hope so beautifully. Let me tell you what I see in you...I see a young man that is very gifted and that God will use in very powerful ways. I see an incredible future ahead of you. And I am very happy that you are in my life at least a little bit. And I truly look forward to the day when you are in hs and I get to know you better. Thanks for having the courage to share your story. You have no idea how this story will be able to serve a lot of hurting people.
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kirstin scott
3/16/2014 12:00:55 am
I would never have expected such a strong story from the boy who told me how fabulous I looked. But then again...we all have a story no one expects. Mines similar to yours :) but im glad youve already learned that you do come out after all is said and dine and that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel if you choose to see it. I dont know you well....but im proud of you and admire your strength.
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