My Addiction

When my life was turned upside down, I turned to a very bad solution and that solution was cutting. It may not have been the best solution, but it seemed like it at the time. It started during my 7th grade year; I was bullied since 1st grade all the way up till 7th. The main person that bullied me was "Mary" along with her ‘best friend’ "Carly". They teased me by calling me names, pushing me around, and making my life a living hell. I told my mom, but all she said was to ignore them and show them I didn’t care. The thing is that I did care. One day they pushed me so far that I turned to the only solution I saw at the moment, cutting. I talked to my friends about it, but they didn’t seem like they cared even though they pleaded me to stop; I did but only for a week. "Mary" and "Carly" wouldn’t stop the bullying, so I went back to the solution to relieve my stress and worries. Soon it became an addiction to me almost like a drug.
I didn’t tell my friends that I was starting again because I knew they wouldn’t be happy with me. One time when we were in computer class I had a sweater on to cover the freshly made cuts. My friend, Bianca, was sitting next to me and she dropped her pen on the floor. We both reached for it and my sweater went up showing last night’s work.
“What happened to your arm?” Bianca asked.
“N-n-nothing.” I answered as I hurriedly pulled my sweater down.
“That definitely wasn’t nothing.” Bianca said as she grabbed my arm and pulled my sleeve up.
Gasping as she saw my arm, she gave me a sympathetic look, Bianca was one of the many friends that thought I stopped. Her eyes became glossier with every blink as tears threatened to spill out. I snatched my arm away and pulled the sleeve back down; I looked away and paid no mind to her low quiet whimpers.
“Please don’t tell me those are what I think they are?” She asked as her whimpers came to a stop.
“Did you really think I would be able to stop, Bianca? They’re still bullying me and this is the only way that I can relieve my stress. This may sound weird but whenever I cut and watch the thick, rich, red blood flow out, it seems like my stress and worries flow right out with the blood,” I admitted
She looked at me like if she understood and sighed as she spoke “I know how it feels, no need to get all descriptive. Just please promise me you won’t do it again?”
“Well, I don’t like to make promises with people I care about if I know I might break it. So I’ll try my hardest not to, but I can’t promise.” I told her. She gave me a warm smile, hugged me, and whispered “Ok.” After that day I stopped for a whole year and have been clean ever since.