I think of many people who have upset me. I would never harm them, but I would yell or scream at them if they really bothered me. I was a good person and didn't know how to fight back, so I let the tears roll down my cheeks and accepted it. I could pretend it doesn't hurt when I know it does, laugh and move on. Acting like I knew my mom would question my grades and I wouldn't cut myself, she never asked how I was doing.

Alternatively, I can start crying and watch everyone laughing and show me when my face turns a deep scarlet and a furious hole burns in my heart. Even though I knew I would never be happy living in the light, I could still tell myself that everything was going to be okay. I ran into the dark, out of sight, to live alone in pain and fear. I prayed to God to help me find my purpose and light in this world, but no bright light came to me, and I had to hide behind corners, stay in the dark, and run away from the light. I knew I had to stop because I was aware of all these things.

I went to counseling and asked my family for help, but it all seemed useless. I have tried to find ways to calm my bipolar but all I can do is go back to my old ways and slowly slip away from reality.

I found a new way to help me make mistakes. I made three cuts on my pale arm and watched the blood spurt to the surface and thought I was missing out on the good things in my life. My mother loves me, I thought as I put down the knife. My brother is funny. I smile for a moment and imagine my younger brother and his various voices as he walks in and out of rooms laughing like a hyena.
I looked at the blade and smiled widely at it, knowing that this would probably be our last meeting. I felt a warm soothing feeling flow into my heart and the hole in my heart filled with joy and I could feel happy again knowing that I would never try to cause myself pain again. I felt warm, and I could feel happy again, knowing I would never try to inflict pain on myself again.