I’ve made a big mistake.
I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
Last night, I smoked my first, and hopefully last, cigarette.
This is something I swore on my life that I would never do.
I have failed a lot of people by doing what I just did. However, there’s only one of them that hasn’t failed me.
Things are very, very bad at home. And last night, I just lost it. I knew I was going to do it as soon as I started trying to talk myself out of it.
So I got one of my mother’s cigarettes. I went outside, and hid in our garden. I looked up at the stars, and I knew I was going to regret this for the rest of my life.
Then I lit up.
Having lived with smokers for my entire life, I knew exactly what to do. So I took a drag, and breathed in the smoke. And you know what? I didn’t cough. I didn’t feel anything.
And I smoked the entire cigarette.
When I went to stub it out I was so dizzy I almost passed out. But then I sat down, cleared my head, and went back to bed.
There’s people I won’t ever be able to explain this to. So many people just will not understand this. Mainly because many people think my life is perfect.
But there is one person who I think will be able to understand, if I explain.
I stopped self harming a year ago. And after that, I promised myself and quite a few people that I would never do that again. And I meant it. I really did.
Last night, I was at my complete wit’s end. It was either self harm, suicide, or that cigarette.
I know the cigarette sounds trivial in comparison to suicide, but here’s the thing: it was such a shocking thing for me to do. Every moral I’d ever had, every promise I’ve ever made myself, was based around never doing what my mother does.
Smoking that cigarette was a way of expressing my frustration. And, yes, okay, it was a form of rebellion. Trust me, I’m not proud of myself.
Last night, I needed to hurt myself, or I was going to hurt someone else.
It’s as simple as that.
I promised myself last night, a true, honest promise, that I would never smoke a cigarette again.
And I hope to high heaven that I don’t, because if I do, I know how I’ll be feeling to break that promise: suicidal.
I woke up this morning, and the first emotion I felt was horror.
What have I done?
And I still feel like that. I don’t even know if it was real.
You see, I’ve made a decision.
I’m not putting up with this anymore.
Last night, my parents – my life – drove me to smoke a cigarette.
And I’m through with it.
So I’m going to put myself first.
I’m going out when I want, and eating what I want, and doing what I want. I’m not going to worry about them.
Because I think it’s time they started worrying about me.