"It's like we talked about. You control this world. Let the pain go, let the hurt go, let the guilt go. What you're imagining right now, that world you control. That place can be as real as any pain."
-Dr. Vera Gorski, Sucker Punch.
The World You Control is a blog by Lizz Matthews, who studies psychology- dealing with depression, anxiety, and addiction to self-mutilation.
We all know that i believe in science. Science is my everything.
So... Does that mean I dont believe in a... Purpose?
Correct.
What is the meaning? What is meant to be? Nothing.
Life just kind of occurred. It just happened. There is no plan. This isnt a game of sims.
Hell, i wish it was a game of Sims.
Love sucks.
It really does.
I wish this life was the original Sims... You, the player, picks who this person is. They create them. They pick who is going to "woohoo" and all that.
Nonono.
That isn't life.
We're all accidents-
Not saying your dads condom broke or anything-
Saying that this wasnt supposed to happen. Nothing was meant to happen. There is no meaning, cant you see?
Now while you're sitting there being your cute little optimist self, saying that God put you on Christian Mingle to meet your true love, I'll sit back here, the realist, laughing.
Laughing because its inaccuracy is astonishing.
Communication:
This was not supposed to happen. It just happened.
So... While describing this to a guidance counselor... He asked me:
If this is what you believe... Since we're already here.... What do you want to accomplish in your life?
*slow clap*
Mr. T, well... I dont know.
After telling him i didnt know... He asked me what made me happy.
I dont know what makes me happy.
Later on i was speaking of love. I realized... Love makes me happy. Love does.
I told him i guess i wanted to find love.
I dont believe in love. But thats a whole different post, see soon.
How the hell am i supposed to find happiness, if the only thing i think will make me happy is love, and i dont believe in it.
My guidance counsellor brought up to me that I had not made a post in a very long time. Um. Oops.
I've been very very stressed lately.
If you haven't heard I am planning to speak to the ABSS (Alamance Burlington School System) about bullying, drug abuse, depression, and suicidal thoughts many students are experiencing at some of their schools.
In writing my "speech" I thought of maybe adding the readings of some notes I wrote to myself whenever I went to Southern.
So I thought I may write here some of the things I found:
Unknown Date
"She has all of these words in her head
Swarming, so she wishes she was dead
Her conscience, the feelings stuck within
Constantly telling her it's "her only friend"
She skips a meal each day
Thinking all the pain will go away
Her friends try to help her up, limb by limb
And when she's about to cut she'll think of them."
"Her heartbeat gets slower
She thinks it's her time
Sadly,
It's not the end of her suicidal crimes."
I then drew a picture of a girl who represented me with no face. Where her face was supposed to be was full of words including: ugly, stupid, unwanted, cheated, used, dumb, worthless, fat, useless, not good enough, useless, hideous, not worth it, strong.
I also drew a picture of a phone reading
"Me: Help
Them: Are you okay?
Me: Help. Please.
Them: typing"
I then found different notes just saying I was a lot of terrible things. A lot of them.
I found a note that said don't read to children at the bottom.
"Oh my god
I haven't done this in a while. Hey Future.
I'm in Irby's (social studies teacher) currently. I've been experiencing hell lately. I might get transferred, I feel like committing suicide, my friends probably think I'm dead. I want to be murdered. I guess. I feel like it's transferred or cutting. I saved this girl named Jenna earlier. We talked last night, she needed me but later on in the talk she didn't reply. My arm is standing up in little bubbles of pain from hurting myself with my nails. That was because at lunch Ms. Hall gave heard me tell Drew his character Antoin (my friends and I all loked to create "characters" to be in conversation by switching voices) sounded gay. Ms. Hall looked at me like I was the worst person to ever live. I sent Holt a message last night, at about 1:52 AM saying that I was just done with living and being here and that I wanted to die. He probably thinks I'm dead. I seriously need to go see Mrs. Davis and talk.
Goodbye. Lizz. (Don't read to children)"
So um that's just some of the stuff I may read to ABSS...
One of the many books I had to keep with me called a "planner" that we weren't actually allowed to write on like this.
A note to myself on my planner wishing to be taken away from the school
Some of the many times I went to the office faking sickness to get out of school. The one that says "water"
Was actually to go to the bathroom to cut.
Ugh I'm tired and sick and want movie theatre popcorn.
I'd just like to remind you how much you mean to me, you keep me alive. I love every single person who's reading this because you've kept me alive for this long, even if we've never met.
I've learned that no matter how bad the situation, I can get through it. You actually care about me enough to read this... That's beautiful. That's amazing. I'm so lucky to have you all.
I just want you to listen to this song... It's beautiful.
So yesterday I found this pretty awesome note in a binder of my aunts poetry that I wrote to myself in like May of 2013.
If you've read some of my other blog posts or know me quite well, May of 2013 was the month that my family found out about that guy I had been seeing. Seeing meaning he was attempting to use me for... well... and I didn't get it because I had just turned 13 and he wa- is a "hormone crazed" teenage boy.
This was probably not written in May, maybe a month or so later. I didn't write the date on the paper (gah Lizz didn't Mrs.Phillips teach you to date ALL of your papers?!) but I believe it was a bit after the "incident" due to old diary entries saying I was "still in love" in like June.
BUT ANYWAYS
This note was entitled "Just Think For A Sec."
The note pretty much said "no gurl i don't needs no mayun"
... Just not like that.
For privacy reasons I shall call him Billybob and his girlfriend Jeanette.
Excuse the grammar, I typed it how it was written.
Just Think For A Sec.Do you need a guy to make you happy? Lizz, you have Teri, and your distant friends, and your music. You have yourself. Be glad Jeanette gets Billybob. You said he was perfect but, what about him was perfect? He had the looks down, the humor, and the taste in music. But let's think about this: Do looks really matter? Wasn't he always taking your spotlight with his humor? Didnt he say Pierce The Veil, your third favorite band, was gay s**t? Plus, was he as geeky as "The Perfect Guy" was? No. Sure he liked Science, and Runescape, and even Pokemon, but wasnt he always making you seem stupid? Remember how he said nice things sometimes but most of the time it was just "Yep" or "Indeed" Well, for now all you need is that one close friend, and yourself to make you happy. Not a hormone crazed boy whos kisses meant he cared for you for a while. You don't need a boy, darling. -Lizz
Binette? Jillybob?
Oh sorry, ship names.
wOW I WAS FREAKIN COOL.
sorry
Hey, I was mature for a 12 year old.
Okay I was 13 but I had JUST TURNED 13.
This is pretty awesome though, I have to admit. Little Lizzery don't need no mayun.
So I just wanted to show you ladies (and gentlemen) you don't need a significant other to make you happy.
They were probably a d-bag if you're not together anymore anyways.
Love and Lil Bub!
Lizzery
This song is Flakes by Mystery Jets, I soo love them right now <3.
So today we shall be talking about body types, insecurities, all that snazzy jazz.
So I have an... Odd body type. I'm skinny, like really skinny. Most people would tell me to stop bragging but I honestly HATE my body. Like I despise my body. It sickens me.
If you've seen me all up close and personal, you'd see I have like no curves. I've just recently discovered sexy = curvy and not sexy = you look like you've been photoshopped.
I'M NOT CURVY. I'M... THIS. *gestures to ugliness*
Okay curvy girls, I know you're so pissed at me right now. You may want to look like a "photoshopped-to-look-anorexic-but-not-sooo-anorexic" woman, but you're stunning! Why would you want to look like me, a girl who doesn't even eat lunch most of the time?!
People starve themselves to look like me. I honestly hate it. I hate it so much. You're gorgeous! Please don't hurt yourself. Honestly I've been trying to gain weight to be curvy, not way too skinny.
I understand that there's two types of people, women that love their bodies, and women that hate them.
Most women dislike their bodies. It's sad. I'm one of them. When people tell me to name something about myself I like I can't even think of one thing.
Society is ruining everyone.
I hate myself because I cannot be what is really attractive.
But I also understand that everyone has a different type. Hopefully one day someone can love me from my personality all the way to my looks.
And I swear to you, one day somebody will love you from your personality all the way to your looks and you'll love them too and you'll have an adorable relationship and adorable pets and adorable-
This is a poem I wrote in school... hope you like it.
Cowardly she walks along the hall,
Covered in broken hearts and shattered dreams
Surrounded by those who shall never know her name
For she's too scared to tell.
Everyday she looks in the mirror thinking what it would be like to be beautiful,
Realizing the only thing close to that are the crimson stripes upon her thigh and arm.
Her only friend is a blog covered in blood splatters and empty streets.
She writes once a night to her so called "friend" before being
Dunked into a pool of medications and drowning in her shame.
This short poem is actually a timeline from the beginning of 8th grade to the beginning of 9th.
This girl is me before I started getting better.
Hey regular The World You Control visitors...
Tonight's post is a letter to a person that has been in my life since she was born. I didn't put a name in it because I share a bit of personal info. I really hope she sees this, a lot of terrible things happened between us and I heard she may be feeling suicidal... so I wrote this for her. I hope you like it.
Hey You,
I named this post after a song we used to dance to together back in 2003. Hopefully you'll listen to it.
We were best friends since birth... but one day it went totally wrong. What happened was not okay.
I remember you as a very out-spoken, yet quiet person. You've always been short, brunette, and your feet take up most of your body. I remember because we spent almost every day together. Our parents were such good friends and your baby sister... Jace loved taking care of her sometimes. I think he misses that.
I heard that she is now in what? 4th grade? Hell, I remember whenever we both went to see your mother in the hospital after she had her. You were my best friend...
My other friends, well, you didn't like them. That was okay. I learned that it was normal for you to dislike my friends because we were so close.
You were going through a hard time then, I believe... I think that was maybe when your mum became addicted to something... I don't really remember what... Or maybe not...
She used to make chocolate pie. She was a very sassy woman, shall I say. I remember when she would be rude to you and your sister. Inside I wanted to slap her across the face, but outside I agreed never to do whatever we had all done ever again...
I remember upstairs in your room you introduced me to Michael Jackson and Taylor Swift... what an odd combo. I remember you teaching me to say "Oh my God" instead of "Oh my gosh" because it didn't really matter what other people thought of what words came from my mouth.
I remember you telling me you didn't want me to be a part of your life anymore.
I understand you were still going through that hard time...
But I feel it's time to come back into your life...
So here I go...
I heard you've been cutting yourself.
By who? I shall not name. He saw scars on your arm as you insulted him in school.
Honey, you will be okay. Hurting people is not okay.
Not that guy, not me, not my old friends and not yourself.
You hurt me, and you hurt me good. I won't even start with the physical pain you brought me only because you didn't know how else to deal with your family issues. You've been moving from house to house because who knows why... You may be going to court soon... I don't know how I can get to you but I am writing you this letter because I'm worried.
I am addicted to self-harm. That cutting you're doing to yourself is not worth it. I don't know for sure if this is what you're doing because I haven't seen it, but you and your sister can not go on like this, and I do not want either of you to end your lives with that rope tied to your tree that we would swing on years ago.
No matter what you did to me, I love you.
Nothing is ever going to change that because I love everyone. Everyone deserves happiness.
What you're going through will pass. You are an amazing human being and so is your sister. I miss you both so much and if I could run over to your house right now, hug you, and tell you it was okay I would.
I know you don't want me in your life anymore,
but it's time I come back.
Love,
Angel Elizabeth Matthews.
And I will never get over seeing your sister last year, whenever my dad came over to fix your dads truck, with curly strawberry blonde hair in the same style as mine at the time, yelling "Angel!" through the screen door and begging to come give me one last hug...
Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while... Tech week, GISHWHES, starting another show... wow. So today I'm actually going to talk about self-harm. I just read a book called Cut by Patricia McCormick, which one of my friends told me to read a few months before I left Southern. This book.. just..
wow.
In this book you follow Callie, a quiet girl sent to a mental facility due to cutting. She stays silent for most of the book and I know the exact feeling. Callie is me from about 2 years ago. It's crazy.
Today I am sporting a self-harm awareness necklace, an anchor for the anchor project, and a "Survivor" bracelet which I have decided not to take off. I am doing this because last night I cut. Not because I wanted attention, or missed my scars... I was feeling emotionless. Cutting gives me emotion. I guess it's the chemical it releases. It was at night, when I usually cut, and when my medicine usually wares off. When the only thing really keeping me okay is the thought that I can sleep without Melatonin.
But I can't.
Meaning that I will stay emotionless until 8 in the morning cutting and cutting waiting for something good to happen. Last night I thought to myself I wasn't going to wake up the next day. I just had a feeling, I guess. The feeling that death was coming in a matter of minutes. I wrote some stuff. It sucks though. In Simplicity, my autobiography, I have noticed you don't really learn about my personality so much as that I have depression. I'm writing another movie, where I can express my personality through who I want to be. A strong, independent, attractive, awesome chick who happens to die, but dies a hero.
Yep.
Soo.. I guess this was just kind of about everything...?
I dunno.
Hello, family!
Sorry that I didn't blog last night, a lot of things were going on. I couldn't stop thinking. I had been emotionless all day. I couldn't sleep. Couldn't blog.
I couldn't really think of anything to write about but Insomnia tonight, so if you like my opinion posts more than personal problem posts, I'm sorry.
Let's get to the blog!
Thinking of what song to pick for tonights post was pretty easy. Brain Stew by Green Day off of their album Insomniac. Totes my goats.
For those of you dealing with Insomnia, you totally understand my pain here. Usually the things keeping me up are my creative thoughts or my scary thoughts. I'm probably not going to talk about my scary thoughts this early in the blog... A lot of people think I may be going insane... I think it's a mix of sleep deprivation and what I've learned may be panic attacks. I didn't know I was having panic attacks. I thought it was completely normal.
SO ANYWAYS.
It's not that I want to stay up, I really want to sleep. I usually have work in the morning and soon I'm going to be going to school every morning. Plus, I live in Burlington and we have to get to Saxapahaw every morning... plus some quick makeup... and the stress of finding something to wear (it's not easy hating your appearance.)
Trust me- I want to be able to wake up early and have a nice cup of coffee or whatever normal people do, but I can't. I have to worry about if my new medicines are working, if I need something else done to help me sleep... Plus I tried coffee when I was like six and I hated it so much.
For three years, going on four, I've tried so many different things to help me go to sleep. Sometimes I'll try forcing myself to sleep by watching terrible things on Netflix. Sometimes I'll watch Stuck In Love because I've seen it like 50 times and I just discovered it like last month. I'll stare at the things I put on my wall right next to my bed. Like I'll study the details of the cute little Union Jack picture that came with a comb I bought, I'll read an Anne Frank quote I wrote over a picture I drew of a corset being tied, I'll read the lyrics to Flakes by Mystery Jets that I put over a self portrait I drew, I'll look over all of the tattoos carefully drawn onto a picture in memory of Jimmy Sullivan, I'll even read a beautiful note written to me from Hannah Ficklin that begins with "Dear Peachez," and nothing seems to help.
Sometimes I'll listen to my own breathing... then I'll stop breathing because of habit. I remember whenever I was little I used to listen to my own breathing like I do today, but I would stop breathing to see if I'd black out or something. I'd also speed up and slow down my breathing... no reason really...
I've noticed sometimes I write. I found a note to myself that said "my ovaries hurt like a pregnant baboon," that I had written after sunrise while PMSing. (TMI)
But really, sometimes it just takes a bit of talking. Like talking to whoever is reading this.
I talked to my mother last night and after shedding many... many tears... I was able to sleep.
I've realized I don't have close friends anymore, but my blog is definitely the one thing keeping me sane.
Love you guys.
I can't believe it's not butter - Maybe it's Maybelline.
Now listen, as a teenage girl I am totally NOT ready to be a parent. It would suck to be a parent at this point in time... But that doesn't mean I haven't thought about how parenting is going to work for me.
I was recently told that a person in my family told my parents they were raising me wrong.
WRONG = NO JESUS
Now believe me, I have nothing against parents that raise their kids around "da lawd" but I don't really get some things. Like... Are you gonna be okay if your child believes that there isn't a god? Whoa whoa, I'm sorry, am I crossing a line? It's cool if you want to raise your child with Christianity or Judaism or whatever you believe in, but you have to remember that there is that possibility your child may learn what a belief is and then realize they don't believe in anything they thought they did.
You may ask... How do I know this?
THAT'S RIGHT CHILDREN!
I was once an extreme Christian. Like... EXTREME.
It got to the point where I wouldn't talk to Jace because he believed in Atheism, and I wouldn't listen to Tool because they're Atheists...
Good times.
Turns out, my father is Agnostic, my mother is Christian, and my brother is Agnostic Atheist.
THEY'VE BEEN LIKE THAT FOREVER.
For me, I was raised with Christianity due to my grandparents and my great aunts and all that jazz, and in their church everybody had to be Christian or be hated by pretty much EVERYONE and live eternity in HELL! Little Lizzery learned that even though she knew nothing about the Christian faith, she had to hate everyone that didn't believe in it! Yay!
I'm not the kind of person to judge or hate people nowadays but when I was like 8 I was.
These are the kinds of people I stay away from... Judgmental, rude, etc.
They classify themselves as pure, nice, and kind people EVEN WHEN THEY ARE HOLDING UP HUGE SIGNS SAYING "ASK ME WHY YOU DESERVE HELL!!!"
I've seen it.
I got a "question" an my ask.fm saying "ew, you're an atheist."
Why is this a thing? I was raised with Christianity if that makes you feel any better, but I believe some things are outrageous.
Believing in something means you personally think something is accurate. One second, I'm gonna Google belief.
be·lief
biˈlēf/
noun
1.
an acceptance that a statement is true or that something exists.
"his belief in the value of hard work"
2.
trust, faith, or confidence in someone or something.
Oh wow! Look! "An acceptance that a statement is true or that something exists."
Like really, believing in God is just like believing in Unicorns. NOT believing in God IS STILL JUST LIKE BELIEVING IN UNICORNS!
Annnd let's take a look at the 2 on the board children. "trust, faith, or confidence in someone or something."
Wow. Look at that. It doesn't say "that you force on your children or you will rot in hell."
Maybe because that's rude.
I'm not raising my children with any religion because I want them to figure out what they believe in.
Who knows, maybe I'll marry an extreme Christian...
But I still think my kids should believe in what they actually believe in.
Cool.
If you disagree with my opinions leave it in the comments below and maybe we can have a sophisticated chat about these things.
I do not mean to offend anyone in these posts. I know religion is a difficult subject but I accept those of all religions and really hope we can get along, ha.
Love and fried potatoes,
Lizzery.
OH YEAH. The song for this post is Inertiatic ESP by The Mars Volta off of my favorite album of theirs, De-Loused in the Comatorium, which is an album of songs based on the dreams a man had while in a coma I believe. Highly recommend their music. Like totes my goats.
As my family and I were riding home from a full day of volunteer work, we stopped at a gas station. This gas station is not particularly known for it's delightful customers. Of course everything was just dandy until a car happened to pull up next to us. This family did not look like they were actually "family-worthy" shall I say. These people, who looked in their late 30s to early 40s, had a young daughter who looked maybe 6 or 7. They might have been her aunt and uncle or maybe just her caretakers...
We happened to hear them being very rude to her, but couldn't quite hear what they said. The little girl in the back seat stared at me for a while. I smiled at her and she smiled back. I then waved at her, making her smile even more. She waved back. You could tell seeing me she was happy, and having me wave at her got her mind off of what the rude driver was saying. She did not look like she was well taken care of. I felt like she deserved to have a kind smile and a wave.
For me, this is an everyday thing. Whenever I see someone being disrespected I always step in and assure them there are good things in life. For this girl, her guardians seemed to mistreat her... I've met many people who's parents did not treat them in a very great manner, so I've learned kind of what they need. Hopefully, I have shown this girl that she is cared about and that there are nice people in the world that can treat her better than she is being treated. A lot of times the children being disrespected will learn to treat others with disrespect and spread that. I really hope that the smile and wave from me to her shows her to be respectful to those around her. I really hope that I helped. Don't think that one small thing cannot make a difference. A smile and a wave could have changed how she views people. You never know.
Next time you see someone being disrespected, give them a smile and a wave. It may change things.
Love and magic,
Elizabeth.
The song of this post is Hold On Till May by Pierce The Veil featuring Lindsey Stamey, a song about a girl who was neglected by her parents and dealt with depression from the perspective of the young man who helped her through it.
Hello Children! Want to hear about another crazy thing that is actually happening in the world/? I know you do.
I do not consider myself a feminist but sometimes I feel like I don't matter. The only thing that really matters is that I'm a woman and I need to grow to be a wife. A wife that pleases a man. ALL I NEED TO DO.
I've had problems with guys before that I do not like speaking of, but thankfully the guys I'm around now give me hope.
BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT THE OTHER GUYS.
When I was 13, a teenage boy tricked me into thinking he loved me so that he could finally get what he wanted. I was fooled by him. He tried to USE me so he could get WHAT HE WANTED. As women, we all know what I'm talking about.
So while I was scrolling BuzzFeed I came across this
I totally agree rapmonsters.
Why? This happened to me.
This same guy, who was 15 at the time, told me what I was allowed to wear when he was around.
I was only allowed to wear short shorts, tank tops, band tees... pretty much anything revealing I owned even whenever it was 60 degrees outdoors.
Why does this happen?
Why do some men think it's okay to tell women what they can and can't wear?
But wait, is it only men?
No. In fact women do it too. See ladies, you probably can't tell but whenever you tell a man to change his clothes because you "just don't like it" you are telling him what he can and cannot wear. Also, you're just killing the guys self-esteem, COME ON LADIES. You're telling him that the shirt he just bought with his favorite bands logo on it is not okay to wear because you don't like it. Is it just me that thinks that sounds a bit bitchy?
Hello. I'm Angel Elizabeth Matthews. You may remember me as Lizz Matthews.
I understand many of you probably did not have the chance to meet me. Today I have prepared this to tell you all who I really am.
I attended Southern Alamance Middle School from the beginning of 6th grade to February of 8th. During my few years at that school I developed severe Depression, Insomnia, Anxiety, and Suicidal thoughts. During my 6th grade year, I decided it was time to discover who I really was. I had been hiding who I really was for so long that I had forgotten who Angel Matthews was. We all dealt with the struggles of finding your true self. For me, I figured out I was an outcast. For years before this I had been bullied. I thought going to a school with people from other schools I had never met would help me and that I wouldn't deal with these people forcing me to believe I wasn't worth living. This was a terrible thought. I expected to be cared about again, but it just. got. worse.
Sixth Grade,
I approached sixth grade in my favorite outfit: A grunge inspired plaid jacket with a shirt that read "punk" and "rebel" and all types of cool stuff. This was who I thought I was. I expected there to be more people like me. Now listen, I didn't keep a diary, so you may be thinking "How does she remember this?" Well, I'll tell you... I started writing. It was something I'd wanted to do for a while. So much crazy stuff had happened in my life and I was thinking it would make for a killer plot line, ya know? This book describes my first day at the middle school very well. I was sorted into my room (jeez what is this, Harry Potter?) and I noticed I was in the same class as my best friend. She was the ONLY PERSON I KNEW! I also saw a group of what looked like popular kids that had lots of money and were all good friends and bleeeeh. It turns out that in the first week of school, one of those popular girls became like my best friend in my classes. We shared all of the same classes and I had a group of friends to sit with at lunch.. IT WAS FREAKING AWESOME. Anyway, so it turns out she was the popular girls weird friend. You know how in the movies the popular girl with money has that one weird friend that isn't actually that spoiled, in fact, doesn't have much money? There isn't that in the movies?! Well there was one here. I loved her to death. She was awesome. I was the weird best friends weird best friend and I was loving it. I thought I was finally being cared about after being bullied so much in Elementary school, but I wasn't. That group of popular boys I saw on my first day of school were most definitely the most popular boys. This may sound surprising to other generations but these days you have to 1) Disobey and disrespect all authority 2) Have money 3) Be good looking and funny 4) Be a total douchebag and 5) Treat girls as your little objects and toys to play around with to be popular. EVEN IN SIXTH GRADE THESE BOYS KNEW THE RULES. Can we take a look at #4 please. "4) Be a total douchebag" it's true. These boys literally made people feel terrible about themselves day by day. As the usual bullying story goes there is always one person known as the biggest target, and in my school I was one of the biggest targets. How do you know if you are the biggest target? Endless threats are thrown at you every day ("If you don't buy a brush to fix your ugly hair, I'll buy one for you." etc.), Endless physical bullying every day (punching, kicking, hitting, etc.), Endless verbal bullying every few minutes ("Eww what is that? Oh It's just Lizz" etc.), and whenever there is a plan to harm someone it always seems to be you. That was me. The bullies came at me every single day nonstop. I remember the school player tried to trick me into things. It was difficult. And to think they were doing this all for attention.
Seventh Grade,
This year WAS AND ALWAYS WILL BE REMEMBERED as the worst year of my life. This year was the year I developed many mental disorders such as depression and anxiety. I actually started the year pretty well. By pretty well I mean not being bullied as much as I'd expected. Of course that was probably because I went through a 1D phase which we shall not speak of that many girls understood. Everything was off to a normal start. I was feeling okay. I was feeling more confident in myself. I don't remember what it is that made me start developing depression, but I believe the bullying started once again. It just kept getting worse. One day I actually ended up having a nervous breakdown one day after coming home from school. I do not remember the details of that but I do believe that is the first time I ever self-harmed. It started becoming regular. I cut at home, I cut in the bathrooms at school, I even cut lightly during classes. I remember developing feelings for a geek in my class. He didn't really help much or make a difference but I knew he cared about me so I guess that helped. Even though he helped a bit I ended up telling him I was moving on. I couldn't really handle another person. That wasn't necessarily true but here's where we get really sad, depressing, and personal. I had liked a friend of my brothers for over 3 years. I started talking to him over a secret facebook account I started because my friends at school forced me to make one. I ended up telling him how I felt and things got a bit too far. I was almost pressured into losing my virginity to him. He kept trying to pressure me into things I didn't want to do by simply making it seem like he loved me as much as I loved him. After my parents and brother found out I was left alone. My friends all left me because I had told them I didn't need them. My brother hated me for betraying him. My parents thought I did something I really didn't and I didn't tell them about what actually happened. A short while later I discovered on my own that he had been using me, or at least trying to. One of my friends had been hinting at this, although I was so crazy about him that I didn't notice he didn't actually care about me. My depression got worse and the user became my biggest trigger for cutting and depression. I started thinking about running away, and the only thing keeping me from doing that was my friend who I talked to online. I had no friends in school. I would cry to myself during assignments and no one noticed or happened to ask what was wrong, just like in 2nd grade when I used to cry underneath my desk while sitting upon the cold floor of Edwin Michael Holt Elementary school. I wrote little depressing notes in my binders. Planning when to run away, when to commit suicide, everything. A few months ago I found these notes and covered them in paint, then throwing them into the trash so no one would know about my depression. I ended up getting worse with my teachers. I had a nervous breakdown in the middle of science class once... that wasn't pretty. Everything kept falling apart for me. I remember the night I ended up blurting out to my mother that in sixth grade my teacher assaulted me. I brought this to the assistant principal. He asked to name other people in my class. Like I said earlier, I never knew these people. I only knew my bullies and my best friend. My bullies of course said they didn't see it happen only to get me in trouble for lying. My best friend was no longer my best friend due to me pushing her away, and she has memory loss. I still don't know which reason it was that she said she didn't recall it ever happening. The year kept getting worse. I stood up to my teacher against her favoritism and she actually got my friends to hate me again after they soon started to like me after the user incident. My best friend became a girl that was so obsessed with me she would touch me inappropriately. I didn't like spending time with her because well, it's obvious. At the end of the year still nothing was resolved and my depression worsened.
Eighth Grade,
In eighth grade I noticed I had a problem. I had nervous breakdowns all the time, I cut 24/7, I was still planning my suicide, and I still had trouble sleeping. I decided it was the year I needed to fix things. I spent most of my time worrying about what might happen to me and those around me. I began studying depression and helping those who are experiencing the same problem over the internet. Although no one knew about this, I still focused more on depression than anything. My best friend also had depression and I began helping others by helping her. I dealt with my depression by helping others, theatre, and listening to the whole Collide With The Shy album on repeat. I lived eighth grade in fear. My anxiety worsened. I stopped talking to people on the internet because I feared if someone figured out it would have a bad reaction like the user incident. I was still bullied, although not as much because I alerted those around me I had a problem. My scars became visible, and so did my tears. I faked sickness all the time to be at home and away from a place where I saw everyone around me as triggers for my depression. I started having flashbacks of everything thats ever happened to me. Flashbacks of when I was pulling spitballs out of my hair, looking into the blue eyes of my bully as he told me lies to try and trick me into spilling my embarrassing secrets to him, and the flashbacks of a guy telling me "Come on, It'll be fun." I started having re-occuring dreams of EVERYONE I knew ganging up to kill me and then celebrating afterwards. I still wrote depressing notes to myself and I remember what caused all of this to be possible. All of this. A great man who happened to be my Language Arts teacher caught me writing "Kill Yourself" on a paper of other little depressing things. He told me to throw it away. I'm pretty sure he thought I was writing it to someone else. Although, knowing my depression was obvious I just saw it as he knew I was talking to myself. Since my whole family still didn't know about my depression I wrote him a letter while everyone else focused on reading The Outsiders. The note said something along the lines of do not tell my mum, etc., etc., I have depression, etc., etc., I have suicidal thoughts and I'm pretty sure sooner or later I'm going to kill myself, etc., etc. He asked me after reading it if I wanted to go to the guidance counselor. I hadn't talked to the guidance counselor since my old best friend told her about my thoughts of suicide but I told her that I didn't have thoughts of suicide and my friend was overreacting. I ended up saying yes to the offer of talking to the guidance counselor, and I ran out of class in tears. Of course my class stared and wondered what was wrong, but they all knew. They had all seen my pictures. I ended up talking to the guidance counselor for two hours and I wasn't even done talking to her by the end, but school was over. I saw her every day and I spent most of my day in her office. Whenever she told me I was in there for too long I would just go sit in the bathroom forever and cry instead of going to class. I told my brother about this but not the other members of my family. He always gave me little pep talks in his special Jace way. Like saying "Razors or Doughnuts? Puppies or Suicide?" It was funny and sweet all at the same time. I remember fighting my mum to go to school in the morning and I told her about my depression in the counselors office one morning. She took me home from my short few hours at school to just get some rest. I ended up having to not only talk to the counselor every day but the assistant principal every morning. Like everything, even through all of this comfort there had to be a breaking point. One day we started studying depression and self-harm in health class. After everyone in the class kept asking me for the answers to the questions because they knew I was "emo" as they called it, I called it the breaking point. One self-harmer at my school actually admitted to getting up and leaving during the humiliating and triggering class. I would not go to school. Soon every teacher and student knew what was happening to me and why I was skipping classes and school days every day. One of my teachers said to the counselor she noticed my depression and scars early on and started complimenting me on something different everyday, no matter if she hated it or not. It was already too late though. I planned on transfer. I ended up being homeschooled. Now that my homeschooling is over, I plan on going to Hawbridge next year depression-free. Because for now, I'm defeating the depression with love and a whole bunch of anti-depressants.
So today I saw a link on my best friend Madison Kimrey's facebook. I'm not a big reader so i didn't read the article she had shared. Though i did read the title and it got me thinking. The title was "'Gay Is Okay But Gross' Is Homophobia, Too." Now, I am a supporter of gay rights. I have many LGBT friends. They are people too and it sickens me to even think of a person thinking less of another based merely because of their sexuality. Equality is my life and this needs to be fixed.
Homophobes are people too and I do not think less of them because of their beliefs, but for a person to tell another they are less of a person is not right and I do not support that.Homophobia is normal, but so is homosexuality. Earlier i said it sickened me to think of this (Homophobia) as normal. Homophobes say they are sickened by homosexuality.
The problem is, it is NORMAL. What i see as gross is that people can't respect each other for the most simple things. You read from a book that you believe the creator wrote that homosexuality is a "sin." I respect your beliefs, I do not judge. But I DO NOT RESPECT YOUR DISRESPECT TOWARDS ANOTHER. Saying love is gross? I say your hatred is gross. Homophobia is gross. Calm. Down.
Is love not allowed anymore? What has this come to? Respect each other. If everyone was the same how could you tell us apart? Just because a person doesn't believe in the same thing that you do does not mean you can harm them. Think of how much you're hurting them. Is that right?
Yesterday I was just scrolling through Instagram. I have used Instagram to inspire others through my pictures and say you aren't alone. Well due to having many depressed, suicidal and self harming followers I usually come across what some may call depressing material (cuts, blood, rants, tears, etc.). But last night I came across a picture that I had to save to my phone. It wasn't a depressing picture, it was inspirational. It was a short rant that only took six words. Six. Words. Those six words can keep a person from doing something idiotic.
As a self-harmer, I have said these six words many times. These six words were "self harming is not a joke." This post was made about the "#cutforliam" started by directioners, which I had never heard of. After making a post about the cut for Liam, my friend Gracie (a directioner) commented that cut for Liam was a big misunderstanding. I took down the post but replaced it with the "self harming is not a joke" picture with no caption whatsoever.
Earlier I said that I have said those six words many times before. I myself have met people that looked at self-harming as somewhat of a joke or a competition for who could receive the most attention from scars. I don't remember the first time I self harmed but I remember when I noticed something was wrong. I noticed I was self harming and having nervous breakdowns. I started to write a song about it titled Boiling Water and Bleeding.
After this I started to take these things more seriously. I noticed those around me were also going through somewhat of the same thing. That even though we all had nothing in common we all bonded because we all were developing, getting over, or had depression. Well, most of us at least.
There were some people who thought because we were true to who we are we were the cool kids. This did not end well at all. These kids were the ones who took self harming as a joke or a contest. They did everything for attention and faked everything so that they could keep it up. I felt as if it was my fault that they hurt themselves to try and please others. I noticed I was beating myself up for it and jut started ignoring them. It kept getting worse and worse because they wanted to get everyone's attention and I was part of everyone. They burned themselves, they cut themselves, starved, took pills. It was all ending with pain. Everyone felt pain. And to think they did all of this to get attention.
But today I came across a post on Facebook literally saying "Hey guys am I ugly or pretty?" and it got me to thinking. Really in my mind- everyone is beautiful. It hurts me to know that everyone is self-conscious. Even people that seem really conceited have something they don't like about them.
Being bullied for years, one day I thought to myself "Why is it that they decide to hurt me? I haven't done anything to them." So mid-argument with a girl I disliked, I started crying and took a moment to myself. I passed her a note (we were in Social Studies Class) explaining how I was sorry for saying rude comments back to her, and that really I was somewhat jealous of her. She replied saying that she was sorry for her bullying and that she was jealous of my loyal friends. I asked her why she didn't leave her group of rude friends if she did not approve of what they were doing later on in the conversation and she replied with something i will remember forever. At school, my friends and I were always rumored to be the suicidal/depressed kids and she had always thought that was true. She told me that whenever she was younger she was very attached to her cousin, who always had cuts on her wrist- if you know what I mean. While now... I kind of doubt this statement... But she says she saw her own cousin commit suicide. I do not know if this is completely true but I will believe it.
Knowing this information made me realize there are many reasons why a person can hurt another, and it doesn't always have to be intentional. I have also talked with another one of my childhood bullies who claims he has family issues. I believe he takes out his anger on others, learning from his parents, and his parents are the ones causing his anger.
So if you're dealing with pain caused by others, take the time to think what they might be going through that is causing your pains. And also, if you're being bullied, try talking to them and helping them. It will get better.
Earlier I posted on my Facebook that I would be doing a Q&A for those who did not know me very well. Now that i have a new blog I thought "Hey Lizz- why don't we just post it there... that way everyone will know who you are."
So. I'm Lizz and this is the Q&A. (all of the questions were given to me by my friend Marian)
Q: If you got to travel anywhere, where would you go? I think maybe Britain or Scotland. I'm very interested in my heritage and both are places I'd love to go. Scotland has always seemed very beautiful to me so I would love to go there. But I have studied Britain for years and I've even developed somewhat of an accent! Q: Favorite thing to do? This may sound a bit cliche but I love just being with my friends. Which usually leads to harmonizing to classic rock songs and repeating lines from musicals. Haha! I do also love being onstage and working backstage because theater is just everything to me. Walking while listening to music and just thinking is just amazing. But out of all of that I think my favorite thing to do is help others. Q: Favorite social media site? Really I don't have much interest in social media. Facebook is usually what you'll find me on but I am starting the Our Princesses project on Instagram with my friend Kaylee. But really, as much as i love the internet, I find just thinking is what I'm usually doing. Q: Favorite subject in school? Whenever I went to public school at a school called Southern I literally could not choose a subject because everything sucked there. I could never focus, I was always getting picked on or yelled at, and my favorite part of the day was leaving and seeing the guidance counselor. But now that my mum pulled me out of that terrible school my favorite subject is Music and the Arts! OF COURSE. But I guess we'll see if it changes whenever I go to Hawbridge next year. Q: If you wrote a book, what would it be about? Well, I write on a regular basis. I love writing. The book I'm focused on the most right now is my twist on an autobiography. My conscience has made a huge impact on my life and I've made it a ghost that follows me around. Q:Do you ever want to have kids? If so, how many? Um... I really want to have kids! I seriously want to adopt and have some of my own. And like 2-4. c: Q: Are you currently crushing on someone? I seriously don't know anymore. Last guy I really liked stopped talking to me and got a girlfriend- who's a model. Woohoo. I had a crush in the last show i teched for- but ya know, cast crushes. But I mean I'm only 14, I'll find someone. Q: First thing you notice about people? (Seriously if people don't answer this the same way I am about to they are lying.) WHATEVER STANDS OUT FIRST! If you screamed and I turned around to see who did it- I noticed your voice first. If you have really freakin bright hair- I noticed your hair first. If you tower over me like a giant- I noticed your height first. If you touch a person inappropriately they notice you're a perv first. Q: Why do you love to act/perform? Honestly I find this question kind of personal for me. It's strange. All my life I've wanted to get my voice heard, and thats a way of doing it. All my life I've wanted to be an inspiration. Ever since i remember I'd talk to myself in mirrors like i'm in some kind of weird reality show or something, and then think i was really strange afterwards. And most of my life I've wanted to be a different person. So it's probably a mix of all of those. Q: Why are you so perfect? :) That's easy. I'm not, you are.
My name is Elizabeth Matthews. I am a writer, musician, and actress from North Carolina. I have decided to start blogging after seeing my best friend Madison Kimrey (http://functionalhumanbeing.blogspot.com) get noticed for her opinions on politics and just society in general. She has inspired me to do what I've always wanted to do and make a change in the world. While I am not interested in politics as much as Madison is, I want to speak up and start doing what I feel is right. It does not have to be politics, and i may not get as far as others, but I am determined to be heard. So here I go.
As a teenage girl I have come across far more drama than people think I do- seriously. Also facing issues with self confidence and bullying, I have met many people who have considered me their "savior" for helping them through depression and self hatred. Really what I would like to do is get my message out that you are not alone. No matter what you do, there is always a person that has dealt with the same (or similar) issue(s) that can help you through whatever it is. Depression and suicide are sensitive subjects, yes, but I am comfortable with speaking about it and helping the ones going through it.
My friend Kaylee and I have started a program called Our Princesses- a group of suicidal and depressed teenagers who just need to know people care about them and love them. I have successfully saved and inspired more than 10 people and knowing that isn't a lot is okay. I've made a difference, but I plan to make a larger one.
Now, don't worry. This blog will not be just depressing posts. I have a lot of subjects I feel very strong about and I would love it if you would join in my fight.
