When I was 11 or 12- somewhere around that age, I joined Google+. It was mostly because I needed to have a Gmail for my phone and it was just there. It was fun at first. I started role-playing, I was talking to people online, y'know, all that good stuff.
Then things took a turn. A guy that was on there threatened to commit suicide. Admittedly, I didn’t know what it was at the time, but he laid it out enough for me to understand the situation and for me to tell him not to. He was 16 or 17 I think? We would just kind of talk sometimes. Sometimes I would be having a normal conversation with him, and other times I’m convincing him to not to do it. Eventually he asked me to be his girlfriend. I agreed, but mostly because I thought it would help him more. I honestly couldn’t even tell you if I liked him that way or not, but that’s not the point. Things started getting out of hand. The suicide threats got worse, and on a nearly daily basis, he would ask me why he shouldn’t, in which I always had an answer. And then he started sending me inappropriate pictures of himself every day without even asking of my approval and constantly asking me to sext him, which I never liked doing, but forced myself to because I thought it would upset him.
One day, he asked me why he couldn’t kill himself, and I couldn’t think of anymore answers. So he attempted. That guilt followed me around the entire time. And it became a cycle, it was constant: he was always sending me pictures of his genitals, always threatening or attempting suicide, always asking me to sext him. I became so enveloped into his problems and his mental health that I eventually forgot to even take care of myself. My weight was changing all of a sudden, I was easily irritable, I was crying myself to sleep some nights, and I remember me having suicidal idealations on more than one occasion. This went on until the end of 8th grade. My mom eventually found out from my sister, who found out about the sexting by looking through my texts while she was using my phone. At first I simply broke up with him, which he threatened suicide if I did, but I did anyways, and eventually cut him off completely. Those I did inform about the fact that I was in a relationship asked me what had happened, but I would always turn towards something else or straight up ignore their questions altogether.
At first I thought I was alright. Without realizing, I made myself forget most of it and pretend it never happened. That I never experienced it and it was basically nothing.
It felt like it worked, but it really didn’t. I noticed a change in my behavior right after I cut him off. I use to be someone who could talk to people easily, dreamt of relationships without fear, always optimistic, all of that. I didn’t feel like me anymore, y'know? The me that use to be happy and full of life and hopes and dreams- everything just felt gone and dead to me, especially relationships.
Heading into high school, I would always hear about people’s relationships and everything, and I would just become so pissed for some reason. I couldn’t figure out why I was getting angry and jealous, but I just was. Then I slowly felt myself drifting away from everyone. It was just becoming a little harder to communicate with other people because I simply didn’t feel like it anymore. And I couldn’t focus on any of my work like I use to before all of this. I didn’t really think about it until my Grandmo got sick. To be honest, I’m not sure what caused the thought, but it was just kind of there.
I realized by then I couldn’t handle grief, nor could I handle guilt, so I thought that if I dealt with one of them, it would help…
The word “help” though is controversial.
Like it seemed to help a little, but at the beginning it was just painful forcing myself to remember everything I made myself forget and having to relive that in my head. Remembering the amount of sexts I had to send on a nearly daily basis, being sent dick pics all the time, remembering how emotionally toxic Google+ was back then (it was bad back then tbh), reliving all of the feelings that I had back then that I never let myself feel because I didn’t put my own mental health first (especially since even during that I didn’t understand what mental health even was), and then realizing throughout all of that, considering by the time I reached 13 or 14, he was 18 or 19, which is too big of an age gap for most of this.
Tbh, I don’t know how I survived during that time because I never really talked to anyone about it (I mean how do you really talk about something like this), I basically isolated myself from everyone including my family, I started to fail my classes, I felt like a failure and a disappointment not only to myself but to my entire family because my mom wanted me to graduate and I felt like I wouldn’t and my Grandmo is sick, possibly on her death bed and I can’t even pass my classes to ensure I’m on the right path before she goes. She did get better but even after that it just lingered. I just felt this way and I couldn’t get rid of it. It was just… Bad. But I’m somewhat better?? Idk where I am on personal improvement, but I guess talking about it’s good, right?
(Idk)
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