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Hey guys. I have not posted in a while. I have been busy. Even if I have not done much. I have been busy with my mind. Too many thoughts. Too much hurt.

I went a very long time without cutting-- at least, it felt long to me. More than six weeks. Not sure excactly how much more, though. But I broke down two nights ago. I found sharp scissors. There was nothing that could stop me. It was not as good as a razor. But it was something, and I was desperate. I kept it. Hid it. This way they-- aka my parents-- will not take it away. They took away the razors and the other scissors. But they missed some. And I will not let them to that to me again. Because it is the only thing I can do to fix me.

Maybe five weeks ago, I talked to Mr. S-- my school counselor-- at my best friend's request. She was very worried about me and upset that my parents didn't want to get me professional help. So I talked to Mr. S, and I cried a lot. It was difficult to open up because I hadn't talked to him before. My friend thought I was trying to be difficult, or at least trying to not tell him things. But really, the answer "I don't know" was true a lot, and it was the only thing I could get out of me. I'm not used to telling people things, not even my best friend. She's the only person I have ever opened up to, and she doesn't even know half of it. I'm just not used to trusting people. I don't really know how. It doesn't make me feel bad or guilty; holding things in. I just... I don't even know. Anyways. I did talk to him. I felt like I was opening up a lot, but apparently I was not sharing much, according to my friend. She was there, and she kept saying "you can tell him!" but I thought I was. I don't know. I told him that I had thought about suicide, but I didn't tell him about my attempts. I told him about cutting and what I cut with. He asked me questions, I answered some of them. It felt good.

He called my father. Told him he strongly suggested I get proffesional help from a therapist. I had to leave the room for part of the call, apparently at my father's request. So, I don't know what he said, I sat outside of the room with my friend and we talked a bit and she said she didn't like seeing my crying and that she really wanted me to get better. She has depression, but her medication and therapy has helped her a lot. She said you never really know how bad your depressive episode is until you get out of it, and that she could tell I was in it really bad. She said she was happy, said she wanted me to be. I went back into Mr. S's office. He said my dad was really positive about getting me into therapy and possibly being put on meds. He gave me a list of child psychiatrist people with their phone numbers and whatever. I got to class late (with a late pass) so everyone looked at me. I felt really self-conscious because my eyes were still puffy from crying, but I dismissed everyone's questions and concerns.

I got home. My dad hugged me, said he would help me through this. I gave him the list of psychologist people.

We never talked about it again.

My parents; they won't leave me alone. They are afraid to even go outside and leave me in the house. They confiscated sharp objects. But no therapy. They refuse to believe anything is wrong with me; dismiss my depression as the result of a lack of excersize... I do excercise. I used to do it more, but I lost interest in both soccer and dance class. So I quit them. Because I was sad and nothing was interesting. My parents both blame me for my saddness and treat it like bad behavior: every time I break down crying or screaming that I want to die, what do they do? Take me to the hospital? Ask me what is wrong? No, lock me in my room, and tell me no TV or computer for the rest of the week. I hate this. I hate this.

I feel so empty. I feel alone. I AM alone. I died a long time ago, but my heart keeps beating. It shouldn't. It should bleed out until I cease to exsist and help everyone by that.

No. One. Will. Help. Me.
I want to cut. I want to die.

I have to go to Florida for Thanksgiving break; which sucks because FL=short sleeves, and my parents will see my cuts. I hate this. I hate this.

There is so much more than even this that is wrong right now.

I want my depression to lift, off course, but... I also don't. I don't know how to be happy. It scares me.

I can't deal with anything. I can't deal with this, let alone school, which is incredibly stressful and TERRIFIES me. It's stupid, but just the thought of school petrifies me with fear for nor real reason. I sweat and my heart beats as I pull up there every weekday. I feel like I am about to have a panick attack or something. I don't like it.

My best friend, who brought me to Mr. S and everything, I cannot talk to her much because her mother HATES me. She thinks that I, being depressed, have influenced her depression. She cannot stand being in the same room with me. It shouldn't, but it hurts. Especially because she has never even spoken a word to me. Oh, wait, yeah- before she knew I cut myself, she said "Hi, it's so nice to meet you!" and I said "Hi, you too!" and then she said bye and I said bye and that was all we ever said to one another. Now she glares at me whenever I see her in public. I am in a play with my best friend. When her mom is there, she always pulls my friend away so we do not talk. And gets very upset when she does talk to me. It hurts me so much, how much she hates me and lets me know. I just... it makes me want to die. If staying away from me is what's best for my friend (like her mother insists, as I am just a "bad person" and "bad influence" to her), I will kill myself. For her. Because I cannot live without her. She's practically the only one who has ever been there for me, and the only one who's never left.

I just don't know what to do. And I had to vent. And stuff. Thank you for reading. I love you guys, PC.

You did the right thing talking to school counselor. Keep talking to school counselor until your parents get you professional help.
What they are doing is neglect. If it is a question of money , there are low cost options. I AM SO PROUD OF OU FOR TALKING TO MR
S!!! You are such a brave young woman. I love you too. We all love you back. Please , please tell mr. S about being suicidal and about tbe attempts. It's going to be ok.

(((((((((((((( NeverStoppedCrying ))))))))))))))

I've been in the position of trying to ask for help and my mom did nothing...
I agree with likewater that you shouldn't give up on getting help. Just keep on reaching out until you get what you need. Hang in there! I'm sorry your parents aren't responding better...don't give up.

Still thinking of you, cantstopcrying, please take care, know we care and please talk to mr. S tomorrow.

If your parents knew the seriousness of your depression, that you are contemplating suicide, that they are that close to losing you, chances are they will get you help. Show them this post if you can so they can see how serious you are about needing help. They would be devastated to find out too late they missed your cries for help. Most parents are ignorant, they dont want to believe their children are in such distress. Your dad responded positively at first which means he is open to hear more. They just dont realize how bad off you are. If you dont feel you can talk to them, enlist the help of Mr. S again.

Likewater is correct. What they are doing is considered neglect. If Mr. S contacts them again and they do nothing again, he can report them for not getting you medical treatment.

Your parents could be reported to child protection. You are suicidal, they have been told to get you help and they still aren't. They are trying to punish you to get better and blame you. Children do not get emotional issues by themselves. It occurs in the family due to lack of emotional health in the family. Your parents are to blame.

Can you tell the school counselor that your parents still aren't getting you help?