Rebirth | A Guest Story on TheMindClan


A guest post written by Muskan Singh
Trigger Warning:
Mentions of self-harm and depression.

You know, there was this girl once.

I used to like her a lot, not in a romantic way, but I did have a deep love for her, and I like to think that she liked me too. We had all these great childhood memories together, memories of us dancing in the rain in the backyard, of our fair visits and doing all the scary rides and eating cotton candy later on, of reading books or playing in our den under the blanket, and of building our tree house and chasing away every intruder.

But as we got into middle school, it all changed. We had a huge fight, and she told me things that still hurt me to this day, and I probably said things that hurt her a lot. I won’t go into detail, but it wasn’t pretty. Not at all. It was the worst fight I’ve ever been in.

After that, our relationship was tainted. We strongly disliked, if not hated each other, but we still saw each other because we were both addicted to dragging each other down.

One day, she wanted to make up, she was tired of this bullshit and she just wanted both of us to be happy again, but I was blinded by my anger and wasn’t having any of it. Dead serious, I told her she was good for nothing, that nobody liked her and nobody would ever like her. I regret it today, but at the time, I didn’t know any better. Of course, she fired back twice as hard, she hit me with every insult she knew and then said I shouldn’t even be alive.

I didn’t know what to do anymore. So then I drugged her. I mean, I didn’t do it without her knowledge, but I talked her into doing drugs. I told her over and over again that she should try it and that she would enjoy it. And at one point, she actually gave in and did it. I got her to keep going until she got addicted. And then, when she was at her lowest, when she was going through withdrawal, I manipulated her into stealing from her friends and family.

I gained control over her whole life, and I loved this sick sense of control. But I wasn’t willing to stop there.

And I didn’t stop there. After around two years of this abusive bullshit, I went a step further. You know, it got boring after a while. So one day, I went and beat her up and then, when she was too weak to defend herself, I took out a blade and cut up her arms and legs. I did this on a regular basis for another two years. She has scars all over her body to this day. She hid everything I did to her from everyone and smiled. She was too scared of what would happen if anyone found out. And, to be honest, I also blamed her for everything I did to her.

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A while later, I began to realize what I had done and that I was on the right path to ruining someone’s life. And not just anyone’s life, but the life of a person I used to be so close to. And for what, a brief moment of satisfaction, satisfaction fueled by someone else’s suffering? Yeah, right.

I didn’t recognize myself anymore, and I didn’t recognize her either. So, after all these years, I took a chance and tried to make up with her. I didn’t know what was driving me to do it, after all, how would she be able to forgive me after everything I did to her? And I was right, at first, she spat in my face, thinking I was trying to manipulate her yet again. But I tried to treat her better. I started treating her with more respect, and as she realized I was serious, she tried to be nice to me too.

I think we were both motivated by all the memories we have together, and we both want to make more memories until it’s too late. There’s still a lot of tension between us, and we still fight very often and I sometimes go back to my old ways of treating her. What happened between us will probably never be forgotten, but we’re trying to get along.

That girl was me. It was me all along, but sometimes it really feels like we’re two separate people. I’d like to think that there’s two people, the good me and the bad me, but in reality, both of us are bad. But maybe that means we both have a bit of good in us.

Afternote: this is my story and what I faced during depression. I walked the path of self harm but I was lucky enough to get help at the right time and save myself. I’m a regular practitioner of self love and on a on going journey of healing.

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