Your UnSlut Project

Submitted by @Caraphernelia_Cure, Author of "The Lyrics Writer"

Trigger warning: The following submission includes descriptions of self-harm. If you can relate to the author about this type of experience, or if you know someone who you think is harming themselves, please refer to the resources here: http://support.wattpad.com/hc/en-us/articles/200774284-Counseling-and-Prevention-Resources

One day, I was reading a story on Wattpad. I can't remember what it was called, but it mentioned a site called Omegle. Naturally, I investigated out of curiosity. At first, Omegle was awesome. I still think it's a pretty fun site to pass time on from time to time. I was on it 4-5 times a week, if not more. Shameful, I know. But I was 13 (I'm 14 now), and it was December 16, close to my birthday. Of course I'm going to indulge in the things I liked at this time of year.

Once when I was messing around on Omegle, I was in text mode and the tag "tattoos" came up. (For those of you who don't know me, gorgeous tattoos with beautiful stories make me melt.) So we were talking and I found out this person was a guy. We started talking about tattoos and stuff and one thing led to another. I said, "Ask me anything, I'm an open book". Holy shit. What a stupid thing to say.

Him: tell me about your body

Me: no

Him: y

Me: because I don't want to

Him: omg ur so fucking childish

(I was getting kind of mad about this time) Me: I am not

Him: then tell me

Me: slender, green eyes, blonde hair

Him: r u fit?

(I didn't know what "fit" meant to everyone) me: yeah

***Trigger warning***

We started talking some more and he sent me a very sexual message. It was my first, so I didn't really know what to do.

I typed back: I want to mutilate my skin

He said: omfg you fucking whore go die in a hole you slut

I fell apart. Someone who I had never met called me a whore, a slut. It hurt like hell for a the next day. I went on Omegle again (oh my god... I am such a moron....). This time, I said something I thought was purely innocent. This was a different guy, who turned something supposedly innocent into a filthy thought. He kept saying he wanted to cum for me, and that he wanted me so bad, and all this other sexual shit. Again, I had no idea how to cope with these messages. I did the stupidest thing ever:

I harmed myself.

I used an eraser after my parents had gone to bed. On my left forearm, I had a huge raw mark about ten inches long and 3 inches wide. It burned.

I talked about suicide. Wanting to overdose or slit my wrists. (I have slit my wrists, but it didn't go too deep.) It freaked my friend out, who I was talking to while harming. She was scared, asking me to stop. I only stopped because I couldn't find anything sharp to actually make scars with. If I had, I probably would have been dead or near-dead by morning.

My parents had me at two counselors. Oh the stress there. One was a school counselor that reported to the government or something. The other was a psychologist at a large, central hospital.

I tried to skip a session with the school counselor, and my father exacted revenge.

We had a long talk about it, but I was on pins and needles the whole time. I knew he was going to pounce on me at any moment. He had always been verbally abusive, but it wasn't him straight-up saying that I was a stupid and worthless bitch. It was all in condescending speech and body language. It was like I was never good enough for him or my mom, in anything I did. It hurt, everyday when he'd say something extreme and tell me not to cop an attitude about it. What was I supposed to do? I learned how to deal with it..

I had become sullen and hostile. I avoided people and started failing in my schoolwork and my relationships. For a long time, I felt like I was just being myself, and that this sullenness was absolutely normal. I was depressed, you could say.

Lately, my dad has gotten better, but is now falling back into his old habits again. My mom never changed. She still lets her bad habit control her. I've changed a lot. I've grown tough skin. I've stopped crying myself to sleep, or just crying over random waves of sadness. Yes, there are days when I still want to just stab myself in the stomach, slit my wrists deeply, or overdose on pills. The urge gets very strong sometimes. There's not a day that passes when I don't have multiple strings of negative thoughts about myself with words that I never used to even think about.

I guess what I'm trying to get at is that calling someone a slut or a whore or absolutely *anything* negative can have large or small repercussions. Still, though, a repercussion is a repercussion. I hope that if anyone calls someone a negative name, they can't eat, sleep, or breathe without feeling guilty... I know I wouldn't ever stop feeling guilty. Never EVER call someone a negative name. You never know what lengths they will go to prove you wrong.