What Happens After
I'm not writing this to get attention. I don't want sympathy for what I have done to myself. I'm writing this only to share my experience with others who understand.
I first cut myself when I was in the sixth grade. I had watched my cousin cut her arms and after talking to her about why she did it I began to understand. She said that when she cut herself, a feeling would come over her that no drug could substitute. She called it her release. My first cut was a small scratch right below my waste line, hardly more than a cat scratch. I did it after a fight with my mom. I remember the little sting, just enough pain to take my mind off of the anger I had been feeling. I remembered what my cousin had said, it was a release.
I didn't cut again until my freshman year in high school. After the fighting with my mom had become too much for me to handle, I moved in with my dad and his family. It seemed to be going fine until I was caught at school with a knife and sent to an alternative school called CDC (comal discipline center) for nine weeks. My dad was so angry that as part of my punishment, I wasn't allowed to go anywhere or talk to any of my friends until I got out of CDC.
I had never felt so alone. I spent all of my time locked inside my room. Until one night when I remembered that release, that little sting that could clear my head. I went downstairs and got a pair of scissors. I went back to my room and locked the door. I cut my thigh so no one would see. After that my seclusion became much more tolerable. Any time I felt like I couldn't take being alone anymore, I would cut my legs and to cope with it. It was like all of my sadness would disappear as I was bleeding. When the bleeding stopped, I wouldn't feel happy, but I was content with whatever was going on around me.
After a while I didn't cut just when I was upset anymore. I became addicted to it. It got to the point where if I didn't cut, I couldn't feel anything at all. I started cutting deeper each time, and more frequently, just to feed the addiction. Little cuts wouldn't satisfy me anymore. The more blood I saw, the better. When I went too deep, I was too afraid to tell anyone, I had to give myself stitches. I cut every part of my body that I knew I could hide. I cut my legs from ankle to thigh, my upper arms and my stomach.
I did everything I could to hide my scars. I wore a jacket and pants wherever I went, despite how hot it was. I would make excuses to my friends when they would ask me to go to the lake with them. I said I was sick when my family took a trip to the beach. My worst fear was for someone to find out and tell my dad. I avoided my dad at all costs, making sure I was in my room when he got home. I never ate dinner with the family, always saying I wasn't hungry. I thought that if he never saw me, then he could never see my scars.
I cut myself for four years because I felt like I had no other way of expressing the pain that I was feeling. It was only after my best friend saw my scars that I realized I wasn't only hurting myself, I was hurting the people I cared about too. I stopped that day and haven't cut since then. I can't say that I regret what I did to myself. I truly believe that that cutting myself was the only thing that kept me alive. But I also know that I will have to hide my scars for the rest of my life. I think about cutting every day. When things get to hard for me to deal with all I want to do is cut because I know that it will help. Having to quit has been the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and I know that I will never be able to say that I am "cured". It will always a thought in the back of my mind. The only thing that has kept me from doing it again has been my boyfriend. He has helped to realize that I don't need to cut myself to cope with my problems.
I didn't write this to condemn or condone self-injury. I wrote this with the hope that people will understand what SI is and how it affects those who do it. I just want people to realize what it really does to you. I also hope that by reading this, people who just started cutting, or have been thinking about cutting, will understand what the consequences are.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 25 July 2007