Dealing with my pain
My story starts out when I was much younger I was 13 and had just started to be able to express the person I wanted to be through my clothes and hair and make up. For me it didn't really take on one set group I would just wear whatever I thought was good looking to me witch lead to some unusual outfits and some rather harsh social rejection from my peers at school, you have to understand I come from a very small farming town where if your not a jock something's wrong with you. Don't misunderstand I had some great friends that had stuck with me through every change I made but as I got stranger in their eyes they started not talking to me at school, I became the embarrassing friend that one you only talk to when nobody else is around. Then one day walking to a class there was a guy standing near my locker. He smiled at me, he was the first guy who didn't laugh and snicker at me, and of course he also had a Mohawk and was dressed like a punk so I think that helped us start talking. He was tall, dark and cute, he seemed to understand me completely, we talked and flirted a bit but he went and got in trouble for stealing something and ending up in youth jail facility. I figured I'd never hear from him again I was wrong. He called me from kiddie jail, and told me he was going to be getting out on weekends, so we arranged to meet at the local mall. Now keep in mind before I meet him the only things I had done was dyed my hair, pierced my nose and ears, fairly tame. He was (and still is an incredible artist) and he was interested in tattoos and other forms of body art. We fell in love (well as much love as you can fall in when you're that young), and things were good he got some home made tattoos done that at the time we thought were great now I don't think they'd be so hot and he drew me pictures and wrote letters, ahh the bliss of young love. But all good things usually come to a crashing halt I got pregnant. Not exactly a great thing when you're only 14. So out of fear of that massive responsibility and some large pressure from my parents I had an abortion preformed. Not the best day in my life it hurt like hell is all the detail I'm willing to go into but I can tell you about being in the recovery room with other girls we were all sitting around some crying some sleeping but most of us where justifying to each other why we had it done, I'm not saying abortion is right or wrong but if you're not 100% sure why you're having it done it royally fucks with your head. After that he the supposed love of my life started dating another girl. Then for me my life fell apart I left school started doing large amounts of drugs with a very dear friend who felt the best way to cheer me up was to keep me on a nice mix of heroin and pills. I was a very numb time for me, when I should have been grieving and expressing my pain in a healthy way I was masking it. That's when I found out that cutting yourself can be that release of emotions with out actually saying it to anyone. It started quietly with a few light razor cuts on my upper arms. I'd make little grids in my arms, soon my entire inside of my arms was a big grid of lines some very deep, understand this wasn't me attempting to kill myself this was the pain of my cutting representing the pain in my life that I couldn't express any other way. Soon I moved on to my legs and then I started piercing my outer arms, I'd have rows of safety pins up and down my arms, the feeling of the them was incredible it was the best high I ever knew to be so in control of my body to be able to do what I wanted to it when I wanted. The pain of cutting was a high, the fact that I could put whatever I wanted on my body was a thrill the blood that came with it was a confirmation of my pain, the scars prove I was able to feel pain. I think that after the abortion I felt I had no control over myself so this was my way of taking back control. Strangely enough my ex boyfriend was doing the same things as me, not that we where ready for kids but neither of us was ready for taking a life either.
Well we ended up fooling around and once again I got pregnant, and once again he ended up in jail. This time I didn't have an abortion, but this time I was also heavily dependant of a range of chemical drugs. While he was in jail he wrote me all sorts of letters and drew me pictures that moved me to tears, he talked of how we would escape the little town and move to a place where we would be excepted, it was a beautiful thought but for me the time for that had passed I was bitter with the world hated myself, and continued to cut myself and do drugs during the pregnancy, but the baby who we had already named Payne was a fighter, she grew strong despite my drug use and I could even feel her move that is until the day I took a very large amount of acid.
I was high for days, paying no attention to anything, the friends that I
was with didn't care they would give me the first dose, hit or toke because
as they used to laugh and say you're pregnant we gotta take care of you
first. Looking back not the best set of friends. During this time my poor
parents were going nuts they didn't know what to do with me this was before
Springer and all the trash tv so they chose to just hide their problem child.
Looking back all these factors the rejection of my parents, the drugs the
hiding of emotions the not so good friends is probably what pushed me to the
breaking point. Then giving birth to a still borne child that I knew I had
killed, the doctors very frankly told me she had had a massive heart problems
caused by drug use, I always think it was that final acid binge that killed
I did get to see her, nothing like seeing a child you've killed to
push an unstable person right over the edge. When I got out of the hospital
nothing changed except my behaviour got even more extreme. I would cut so
deep I could touch my veins, I wasn't stupid I studied up on how deep I could
go with out killing myself I didn't wan to die just punish myself. Then one
day cutting myself didn't appeal to me anymore, I got a tattoo, then another,
more pain to try and numb myself. More drugs, drinking and then sleeping with
a lot of people. I a way I was trying to hurt myself for the things I had
It's easy to explain this now but at the time I was a very
frightened kid, my poor boyfriend at the time didn't know how to deal with it
either he stole and got in fights hurt himself and generally lashed out at
society too. We where kids clinging to each other for support but at the same
time not understanding why we did what we did. We both came from abusive
homes, his was sexual abuse my was physical, more fucked up things to deal
with, and when you're young you do what you can to cover the pain. I guess
that explains why I cut myself but not really why I stopped. I stopped
because I found somebody who accepted me and my past with open arms; he
helped me move on to new forms of expression through writing and music,
although I still do cut myself during extremely stressful situations I am in
control more now. I understand why I do the things I do I also understand
that not everybody is going to accept me for who I am. I have a decent job
where they don't care what I get pierced and what colour my hair is this
week, that's helped a lot to have a group of people that are "normal" who can
see past blue hair and know the person inside.
Basically I have over the years come to accept myself for who I am I no longer use drugs to numb myself I face my pain and express myself through it instead of using cutting to cause pain that I was trying to forget. All in all I've learned you can't run away from your pain you can only embrace it and make it a part of who you are. The only real regrets I have is helping to fuck up that poor ex boyfriend, I know I was just a kid the n but he never deserved all the misery I caused him, but you can't change the past and I only hope that his life is going well now. Next week I'm going to get a tattoo of a picture he drew me a long time ago, I've been saving it for 10 years now I feel like it's the right time in my life to get it done as a memorial to all those hard years and our child that never had a chance, oddly enough it's not the sort of art he usually drew his subjects where always dark and morbid and filled with pain, this picture is of a little cat with angel wings, it shows me there's always hope. Someday I'd like to run into that ex and show him my arms, let him see the scars tell him he was never alone during that time, and show him the tattoo and tell him how sorry I am for everything I ever did to cause him pain. · FYI- I'm not against abortion, I think everybody should be able to do what ever they want to their bodies when ever they want, it just didn't work out for me.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 09 April 2001