Is it possible to be your own worst enemy, for you to be your own “bully” so to speak? Most would disagree and say that you can't, but I know for a fact that you can, and this is my story. About 2 years ago due to the circumstances going on in my life I was alone for the most part, my best friends were not living in the area anymore and I had started homeschooling. Yes there were people around me but I just wasn't connecting with them, they weren't people that I would really talk to. My conversations were totally bland “Hey Jasi, whats up?” someone would ask. “Nothing much, how about you?” I would respond. And, this is how it went on, day after day!

I would laugh and talk but it was all superficial nothing deep or meaningful. I was an empty shell, okay on the outside but empty on the inside. Slowly, like the way you fall asleep, I began to get depressed. Sad for no reason and quiet about my thoughts and feelings. One day, just like waves hitting a beach my sadness was washing over me for no reason, I walked into the shed we have in my backyard I saw an old knife that I had fixed. I thought to myself “what would it feel like to just do it once? Just a quick swipe nothing serious.” and I did it, just like I thought nothing serious barely even a scratch actually.

I had let the flood gates open, it only got worse from there on. Not only did it get worse, but my thoughts as well. A general self-hatred of myself grew and grew, like a monster feeding off my negative thoughts. I kept thinking horrid things about myself like “I'm such a disgusting person, why would you do this to your parents?” “I'm a horrible person, with such a puny body. How could anyone ever like you?” and things of the such. Whenever I would do something wrong or mess something up, even the most miniscule detail. I would think of it as another reason why I deserved what I was doing to myself. “Yeah I’m just such a screw up, this why you deserve what you do.”

I became addicted to the pain, I never hurt myself to the point that it was dangerous or life threatening but I did become addicted. This continued for months on end, until one night I rushed out of my room without a shirt asking “Mom do you know where my shirt is? The one for my best friend's grad party.” “Jasi...what are those? Is this the way you...Jose” I was left with the shocking realization that I had all my cuts showing. None the less my parents helped me through that tough time, and I got over my addiction.

Though something was different to me, the world didn't have the “shine” that it had before. I had gone into the dark depths of what this world holds, I was no longer oblivious or didn't care. I knew what it was like to be there and the things that people were going through. People I didn't know, but I still worried about them. That’s me today the world no longer “shines” for me but I’m happy and I’m content with my life and I have plans for the future. I want to become a mechanic and I would like to open up my own shop one day. I can say from experience that things really do get better. Nothing changes what I was though, my own worst enemy.