*First off, I would like to say this is my personal opinion.* Scarification

can look good on some people, and it can be meaningful for some people, just not me. I used to be one of the cliché cutting girls. The first time I cut myself, I carved my boyfriends initials into my upper left arm. "CK." I cut myself in front of him, and with him. He carved "JL" (my initials) into his arm. I did it much deeper than he did, and mine lasted. All my friends said I would regret it, and I said something along the lines of, "No way! I love him." I was 12 years old, and so fucking naive. I cut myself a few more times during the course of our relationship. About a year later we broke up. He was a fucking psycho rapist and I couldn't live with his initials on my arm. I cut lines in every direction over them. There is still a very faint "C" on my arm.
I developed huge control issues. I was anorexic and pretty fucking depressed. I didn't cut much while I was anorexic, it really started after I got better. So after I was all fatty and healthy, I cut myself. I started out breaking apart razors for the blades and slicing up my arms late at night, when no one was awake. I didn't feel any pain what so ever. I got such an intense adrenaline rush. I found new razor blades in my house. Awesome! Nice clean cuts, barley any pressure needed to be applied to get the amount of blood that my lust desired. I cut myself a few times a month, depending on how things were going. How fucking stupid of me.

If you have parents, a  doctor, and a few friends, it's hard to hide your

cuts. My Mom found out. She freaked out. She thought I was wicked fucked up in the head and weird The thing is, so many girlies did it (boys too). Of course, that didn't stop me! I just changed the area I cut. I cut my ankles, thighs, and stomach. Sometimes I couldn't resist cutting my arms, they were my favorite. This was all when I was sXe. I was a happy drug-free girl who liked to slice up her body. I was much happier than I am now, for real. I had an awesome boyfriend and hung out with cool kids. I was on medication and went to therapy. Sometimes things would set me off that I couldn't, or didn't want to deal with the right way. I had a best friend who lived a state away from me. He and I constantly wrote each other letters. He would send me his blood on pieces of paper and towels, and I would do the same to him. It was our special little thing that no one else knew about, because no one else would understand. As usual, turned out he was pretty psycho and fucked up too. I don't talk to him anymore. I cut myself too deep one time. I closed my eyes and sliced with a brand new razor blade. I watched the flesh spread apart, the blood flow in. Then it didn't stop bleeding. I cried and cried and finally, a few bloody towels later, it stopped bleeding. I wrote with that blood in my note book, there was so much. I threw away the words in blood, and now I have a fucking ugly puffy scar on my arm to remember it. After that I barley ever cut myself because the scars were so gross, and I realized how out of control I was. A month or less later, sophomore year, I started to experiment with drugs. I only cut myself on about three occasions since then. The last time I cut myself was in September. The last few times I have done it has been when life sucks so hardcore and there is an overwhelming amount of pain. Sometimes I cannot get it the pain out even if I scream, draw, and punch walls all at the same time. The feeling of cutting used to be like no other. A drug that keeps you sXe! I have numerous degrees of scars on my arms and legs. On my legs most of them are just long, dark, lines. On my arms the only ones that lasted are either puffy or shiny. I only have about 3 decent scars on my arms. I want my scars removed with lazers. I wish I could trade with someone who has no scars. They could arrange mine into a nice design and put them on their body, and I could have their nice smooth, unblemished, skin for myself.