I don't get it at all...

Ok, so, I've been coming out to people over the past like, month or so. I've told like, maybe 15-16 people now? Finally, about two weeks ago, three weeks this coming Friday, I worked up the courage to leave my parents a letter (Note: I still live with them as I'm under 18). Apparently, my dad didn't really have a reaction; he grew up with some homophobia from his parents, but apparently he's really mellowed out over the past 10-15 years or so, so he didn't really have much of a problem with it. My mom, on the other hand, is pretty religious, although she's not like those nutjobs that kick their children out for being gay. She apparently had a terrible reaction to it, although I didn't end up seeing or hearing from them for about 3-5 hours after I left the letter. She calmed down by the time I actually heard from her, and it made me feel happy, because I thought I could come home and be out and accepted by my family.

Well, fast forward two days, and me and my mom have this huge argument. It ended pretty well, though, and we both made up, but still, it really threw a dent in my life. Mostly because, I've been dealing with tons of stuff since I started school, pretty much. Mostly just being an outcast, being different, being bullied for no reason. Left me with quite a bit of scarring, lots of trust issues, which all of that might end up being important, but I'd rather skip to what's more important right now.

I don't know exactly why, but the past two weeks, I've been lower than I've ever been. Granted, I don't remember exactly when the last time I really felt "happy" in my daily life was, but these past two weeks have been just terrible. For one, I've got a friend, his name's Austin, who I'm trying to help get over a crush, although he's not sure exactly whether to get over her or not, so I'm having to deal with him. Add to that the fact that another friend of mine, who I've been crushing on for over a year, and only recently started getting over, apparently was contemplating suicide, and even got expelled for possession of Hydrocodone, although I'm not sure exactly why he was carrying it around in school.

So, all that built up, the Wednesday before last, I started cutting.

And believe me, I know how bad it is, but, honestly, I had no idea at the time what else to do. I was so far down, that I didn't even talk to my best friend about it (Austin), until after I did it. Ever since I came out to him, we've pretty much been sharing everything with each other. I honestly don't think I can trust anybody except for him. After I talked to him about it, what made it worse was the fact that, since me and my mom had that fight, I haven't been able to cry, for anything. I saw an incredibly tear-jerking picture on Facebook, that hit home (it was about a girl who had cuts on her leg, being noticed by some little kid she babysat, who told her about his sister, who did the same thing, and ended up killing herself, then he asked her not to do it either, although he didn't know that that was what his sister did; it hit home because I've got two little brothers, one who's like, 12-13 years younger than I am, another who's 4 years younger than him, he was born last August), and I couldn't even cry after that, and that was only this past Saturday.

Anyways, after we talked, I promised him I wouldn't do it again, although I also told him I didn't know if I could keep that promise. The next Wednesday, I finally told another of my friends, who I'd already come out to, pretty much what I've been dealing with. I even showed him my arm, and told him how ashamed I felt after doing it. He basically told me that if I ever needed to talk to anyone, I had him to talk to.

Well, fast forward now to today, and, I didn't keep that promise. Only a half hour ago, I did it again. And, honestly, while the first time I did it, I immediately felt regret and wanted to cry, this time, I didn't feel either of those. I don't know exactly what I felt; my arm is kinda itching, and that's about it. But it wasn't regret, or wanting to cry. But then, I did feel like I wanted to cry, but not because of doing it, more because of my reaction to doing it: I was essentially emotionless after doing it. And that's what scares me. I just wish I could cry, get it out that way, instead of doing this, but now, I'm scared that I'm going to do it a third time.

Also, for some reason, probably the trust issues I mentioned earlier, I don't want to tell my friend Austin I did it again, even though I know 100% I can trust him with anything. I don't know why, maybe it's a part of me telling me that he doesn't care, that he'd just dismiss me as a lost cause. But I know, based on his reaction to the last time, he wouldn't do that. But I keep thinking he will for some reason. I'm honestly all kinds of fucked up, and I don't dare go to my family about it; my mom would probably blame herself, and my dad would probably dismiss it as "being a teenager".

So, thanks to anyone who took the time to read that. I know that I probably wouldn't, simply because I look at myself and see some stupid kid who doesn't know how to deal with his own problems, but anyone who did, thank you. I'm honestly not expecting any responses, I just wanted to get this off my chest. Again, thanks to anybody who actually bothered to read this. I wish I could actually cry right now. So many times, I feel on the verge of it, but then it goes away before anything actually comes out. I'm scared that this will lead to suicide. I don't want it to, I can't actually picture myself actually sinking that low, but I'm scared that something else will happen that will push me to it. :tears:

 

4ever Hearth, I know what you mean about the whole, "I don't have enough long sleeve shirts to wear" thing. Granted, I've been wearing solely long sleeve shirts for the past, like, year pretty much, so it's not a weird thing for me to be wearing them, although I do live in Florida, so it's kinda weird. But, anyway, thank you for actually reading it. Honestly, I do feel slightly better about it. And, about my mom, it's not that she views me as a "horrible sinner" or anything because of it. She just doesn't understand it, and the only exposure she's really had to gay people is her old hairdresser, who she stopped going to after he came out (which was likely due to more than just him being gay; apparently he was married and actually just up and left his wife and kids after coming out, although I never actually heard the full story, just what came from my mom and grandmother, who also went to him to get her hair done). So, I don't really blame her for anything. It's just, when we argued, I had to actually tell her that what she said hurt me. She didn't know that it hurt, and that's what made it worse. And I know at some point, I will have to tell my parents everything that I feel, I just don't want them to blame themselves for it.

Although, I have a rare case - someone else actually does have partial blame in how I feel right now, although indirectly really, so it's not that much. Neither of my parents have noticed any of the signs I've been sending them, any of the cries for help I've practically shouted towards them. But as I was saying, I don't want my mom to feel that she made me feel this way, because she didn't, and I know that if I were to show her what I've felt, she would instantly feel terrible and feel like it was her fault. And my dad, I've tried to be serious with him before, and he continually dismisses things as me just being a teenager, and it all being in my head. Well, I've never actually told him I've been feeling depressed, but I'm pretty damn sure I've got OCD, yet he continually tells me that I don't, and that I'm just trying to get attention. I kinda am trying to get attention, but not by doing that.

What feels the worst though, is how I'm conditioned to be. Whenever anyone notices that something's not quite right, I simply lie and say that I'm tired. Except for my two friends who actually know that I cut, but they usually don't ask if anything's wrong, cause I usually talk to them before they ask me anything.

But the worst thing that's probably happened to me, though, is that, this morning, I wrote it up. I'm not planning suicide at all, and I pray to any god that might be out there, whether they exist or not (I'm an atheist, although it's more like, "there may or may not be a god or gods, but I'm taking the 50% chance that there isn't one"), that I don't ever want to do it. But I've already got a note written, and as much as I want to burn it, I can't bring myself to do it. Which, is honestly a good reason, because part of me is telling me not to burn it so that when (because I know it will get better, just not sure when) I do feel better, I can keep it as a reminder of how far down I was and a reminder not to ever let myself fall this far down again.

And, I couldn't help myself, but I cut myself again, about noon-ish. Only one this time, as opposed to the like, 6 or 7 from last night, but still, I didn't feel bad about it at all, which still scares me more than anything. Now I'm scared that it'll become something daily, although I'm going to try and force myself not to do it again. The thing is though, it's bad in several ways: unless I actually go to a hospital and sterilize the knife and my arm, the cuts will probably end up getting infected, which is never good. So, cutting myself honestly isn't just something psychological. But I keep putting that out of my head each time I think about doing it again. Which is honestly quite a lot, and I wish it weren't so often.

Again, thanks to whoever decides to read this wall of text. It's seriously helping me out a lot. Well, more than I probably realize anyway. Hell, maybe it'll even drive me away from suicide. I really doubt it, it'll probably take more than a few people on the internet, but, at least y'all responding helps some.