my story

this is my darker story... the not-so "pink" part of my life. from first glance at me, people probably don't think i'm as messed up as i am. people see erin as the cheery, happy, energetic, weird asian girl who takes pride in her asianness. but what you don't see, is the erin who has been through an eating disorder, harassment through all of junior high, racism, depression, and self-mutilation. this is my story:

i have always had a "pooch" in my tummy... not necessarily fat, but still a little round nonetheless. but it never really bothered me until my own parents started making comments... like "if you don't work on it, you might end up with a beer belly like your papa." people should know by now, that those things will stick with a girl. at that point, it bothered me, but i don't know what quite made me snap. so, i started to try going without eating for certain periods of time. like, i never ate breakfast ever, and tried to cut down on what i ate at school for lunch, then ate as little as i could during dinner. the excuses i made for my friends and family were similar, like "well, my mom has been making me big breakfasts lately, so i'm not hungry for lunch..." or "we had a huge lunch at school, so i just don't think i can eat that much..." but my body just didn't have the willpower of a true anorexic. so i tried something else i had read in a magazine: over-exercising. we had a treadmill, so i would go down there after school and would run as fast as it would let me, for about 30 minutes at least. after each time, i felt exhausted and weak in my legs, but i'd also feel proud of myself. but my phobia of spiders began to take over, and i found it harder to concentrate on running when i knew there were spiders crawling around in the basement around me. i haven't tried to starve myself in a long time, ever since those two times, but i did experiment with dietary supplements like slim*fast and dexatrim. the dexatrim worked the best for me, cuz i was still able to eat, but it cut back on what i had room for. recently, i made the mistake of taking my dexatrim and an herbal supplement both right in the morning withouth eating anything first. i was in the middle of a conversation with my friend justin, when i had to run out of his dorm room to get to the bathrooms. i hate throwing up, and i did quite a bit, for someone who hadn't eaten all day. (at least we know i could never be bulemic, huh?) ever since then, the pills have sat in my car, looking at me like "are you gonna finish me off or what?" i just don't know quite yet...

thinking back, i can remember struggling with my first signs of depression all the way back around 6th or 7th grade. i remember i would get terribly up-and-down with my moods, and when i was home at night, i would put on some music and cry myself to sleep. i think the last straw was in 7th grade. i was friend with a girl who we'll call amy at the time, and we were best friends. one day, during lunch, she sat down at another groups' table, and those girls were both above us one year and pissed. (why, i still don't know) i guess that she and they had a squabble about it until she gave up and went somewhere else. well, they followed her back to our classroom, where they saw me talking to her about it. so not only did they set their sights on her, but on me, as well. from then on, they would follow us from the lunchroom to our classroom and harass us, taunt us. one time, they surrounded us and walked side-by-side with us down the hall, and talked to us about being careful who we talk to and about. that left me a little shaken, but since they seemed to laugh about it, i thought maybe they were done. then, i noticed that they would watch us and sometimes follow amy and i as we went to our busses afterschool. amy later told me that they would actually follow her to her bus, stepping on the heels of her shoes and trying to trip her. the breaking point was when they somehow got both of us into our classroom after lunch with a couple of their guy friends. they left the lights out and forced us into the back corner of the classroom, where they continued to threaten us. i kept a stone face, cuz i didn't want to cry in front of such mean people; but once they left, i started to bawl right there in the middle of the hallway. our teacher finally came back from her lunch and asked me what was wrong, but when i couldn't talk, she just had amy and i go to guidence. from there, the school finally started to take action, but it was so humiliating at first. before they could suspend any of the girls or guys, they had a police liason officer wait for us near our classroom after lunch. i remember the first day that happened, the girls followed us like normal, but were stopped by the officer, so they knew something was up. i'll never forget their faces that day, but i was also scared of what they might do after that. lucky for me, they were smart enough to stop after that. 1 girl got 5 days suspension, 2 girls got 3 days suspension, and 1 guy and 1 girl got 3 days in-school suspension. i will never forget their faces for as long as i live...

after that whole incident, i started to plummet downwards. i had read in a magazine girls describing how it felt to cut themselves, so i had to wonder how that would feel. i was surprised to learn that it actually made me feel better; take my mind off my emotional pain. i remember during the fire muster (a community celebration) of 8th grade year, i met a boy named jo from north dakota, who listened to me cry and show him where i had tried to cut myself. i remember sitting on the hill and talking to him when he took both of my hands into his and looked into my eyes and asked me "will you please stop? for me, if not for you" i nodded for him. and i did stop... until he stopped writing to me. then i fell back into my sea of tears. i started to date my best friend, andy, but it didn't seem to help. i remember one night, i sat in my room, lit some candles, put on the backstreet boys, and proceeded to cut my legs. it wasn't even his fault, but i couldn't help how i felt lately. i later had a relationship with dane, which lasted a very long time. he was sweet to me, and so was his family. i remember one day, though, there was just something odd in the air. we went to a movie with friends, and i was in a daze the whole time. i remember feeling completely out of place, but not knowing why. dane and i got into a fight later, and we ended up breaking up. i remember that was also the night that i told him that i cut myself. he said that, even if we weren't together, he would always care about me, and wanted me to talk to him if i felt down like that. little did i know, dane wouldn't keep that promise at all...

9th grade year began, and my long-time friend brian and i began to date. i was pretty happy until one day, dane im-ed me, and asked me about my new boyfriend. he harassed me for dating someone 2 years younger than me, but i tried to just shrug it off, like "whatever..." but i soon found out that the only reason dane was talking to me, was to get under my skin. one of the last questions he asked me was "so, does your 7th grade boyfriend know that you slit your wrists, too???" i wa sshocked and numb. i stared at the screen for a long time, and realized tha the dance i used to know was never coming back. pretty soon, amy had decided that she was too good for me now, and decided to tell some girls lies about me to get them to like her. one of the girls actually came up to me and threatened to beat me up if i didn't go tell everyone the truth. i was so confused; how could i tell everyone the truth about a lie that i had never told? she confronted me one night at the first dance of 9th grade year, and i rememer amy just looking at me afterwards and going "i just don't like you anymore." and shrugged as she walked away. my friends came to my aid, but i started to cry again, and i felt mad at myself. i didn't want to cry in front of all these people, but i couldn't help it. but they got brian, and he held me and danced with me until i had calmed down, even though it wasn't even a slow song. he was good for me that year. during our relationship, i can't think of a single time i tried to cut myself.

it was february, and i thought i would actually get it through the year without anyone harassing me or bothering me, when it happened: i found out how racism felt first-hand. i was on a bus after-school, on my way home from a drama meeting. the busses all go to the high school after the junior highs, before they start to head home. the busses always pulled away at 5:00 sharp, so everyone could get home in time. this day, the bus started to pull away, when 3 girls ran next to the bus, knocking on the door and trying to get on the bus when the driver would open the door to talk to them. they finally got on the bus, but continued to harass the bus driver about being uptight, and how one girl though he broke her hand when he tried to close the door, and she put her hand in the doorway. so, he stopped the bus, and called a police officer to come deal with the girls. it took about 30 minutes for the officer to come and fill out a report before we could start to head home again. the girls thought it was funny at this point and tried to apologize to the rest of us. i was mad, so i just kind of waved them off. little did i know, that one little wave of my hand would set them off like it did. they got mad, and started to make comments on how i needed to go home so i could eat my dog, and make called me names like "chink" and "gook" i kept loking forward, grinding my jaw the whole way home. then, they started to throw pencils at my head. i remember being so mad, and asked my friend next to me "why doesn't someone stop them?" and rememer being hurt when she said "just ignore it, it's not a big deal" when we finally got to my house, i angrily grabbed my books, and made it to the front of the bus, where i asked the bus driver if he even knew what goes on in his own bus, and shoved a pencil towards him, telling him what happened and that "i don't appreciate pencils being thrown at my head" by this time, my eyes were full of tears, tears of fury, and i couldn't see exactly where i was going,and i ended up tripping down the stairs. i landed right in a huge snow pile, but i was so mad i didn't feel it. i went into my house and started sceaming and throwing my jacket, my notebooks, my backpack... anything that i could pretend was those girls. then, i went upstairs, and collapsed in the hallway, crying. i called eric, and asked him to come get me, so i could go over to their house. he was over sooner than i ever expected, and we walked across the street to his house where i crawled up to jason's room and sat in his closet, crying for 2 hours. eric finally got ahold of brian, andhe calmed me down. but i still was in shock over what had actually happened to me. it took me a week to actually go to the office and file a report with the school over what happened, and i was a wreck that whole week. even though they assured me that they would take care of the problem, i refused to ride any bus after extra-curriculars, from 9th grade all the way until i graduated...

brian and i broke up, and the cycle began again. the crying and cutting... i started to get better at it... i began to get to the point where i wouldn't stop until i saw blood and knew that there would be a good scar. once i got into high school, i focused more on keeping busy. i joined our improv troupe, and turned out to be the perfect abused girlfriend. i was the one that they yelled at and threw around the stage, and got to the point where i could make myself cry. i didn't have as much time to cut myself... but i still had my moments... i never forgot how it felt to cut myself till i stopped crying. this past year has been kind of trying on me. i started to think more and more about my birth mom, and just get into certain downer moods for no reason. there was one week this past summer, where i cut myself everyday for a week, and that picture i have below. i know i should probably go get help, but i don't want it. i would rather sit at home and listen to slow music and just cry... it's just a part of who i am.

i had a really bad stint lately, where i cut myself more than i had in a long time... (you can see those pictures at the bottom here) but i realized that i don't want to keep doing this to myself over and over again. i still have my little razor, but it just sits there, waiting for the occasional package to come along, because that's the only time i will use it ever again... i am hoping to make a sub-page off of here about self-mutilation. because it will help my healing process, and i hope it will help others who self-harm, and help other people understand what it is...


my leg after a particular week during the summer of 2002


my ankle after the crazy halloween in mad-town. i was so proud of it... it hurt, but i've learned that i love pain


my left wrist after a particularly bad spurt... it's kinda hard to see these ones, but these were the most i had ever done within a couple days...

careful
here too
don't click on the above links unless you're prepared to see kinda graphic images...

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Email: krnprincess84@hotmail.com