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Living, Breathing, Cutting

First of all, I strongly urge anyone that reads the following to not be as nieve as I was. What I did was dangerous and I could have seriously hurt myself as well as my health.

When I was quite a bit younger than I am now I had some problems with depression. For the most part I was your average run of the mill teenager. I hated my parents, thought life in general was just unbearable, and thought I would never change my mind. As you will find, I turned out to be very wrong.

When I first started "cutting" I was thirteen. For a while I thought it made me happy. It would at least take my mind off of what I thought was so terrible. At the time, it gave me a way to get away from reality. I would cut once a week, sometimes more. It made me feel like I was in control of something for the first time in my life. Eventually, the addiction grew. I started to cut not only to get away but just for the thrill of it. It excited me to see how much I could bleed. I loved my scars. I guess I thought of them as some sort of trophy for what I had done to myself. At the time, they made me feel empowered.

Well, I continued like this for the next 3 years. By then, I had successfully learned to hide the cuts so I started to cut more areas. Whatever I could cover I cut. I was addicted and I didn't know why. I was no longer depressed. I was actually pleased with my life. So, why did I still feel this desperate need to cut? I couldn't find a reason that I didn't dismiss. I decided right then and there that I was going to stop.

People say things are easier said than done for a reason. Because it is very true. I tried with several failed attempts. However, I was cutting a lot less and that pleased me to some extent. Although, I hated myself for giving in each time I did. I hated that there was something that I could not overcome. I had to do this. I would not let it get the best of me again.

I came up with a plan. First, I had to find someone I trusted that could be with me at all times. After some careful thought I selected my friend Gene. He had been my best friend for the last 5 years. He was the only person that I was really close to. We did everything together so naturally I thought we should do this together. Fortunately, my mom allowed me to have boys stay the night. Also, his parents could care less of what he did so he could be by my side for any amount of time I needed. Second, I had to get rid of all the clothes I had bought to cover my arms, legs, and stomach, as well as anything sharp. Thank heavens summer was so close. Third and most important I think was: DISTRACTION. I did anything I could to keep my mind off of cutting. We watched movies, talked (sometimes all night), played chess(I never want to play chess again we played so much) and just about anything else you can do without leaving the confines of your own bedroom.

At first, it was hard. Really hard! As time went on though, it got easier and I thought about it a lot less. It has never fully gone away. Nor do I believe it ever will. It has been almost seven years since then. I have slipped a few times and I have hated myself for it just the same. Each day I think that I grow stronger. I try to tell myself that I will not fall prey to this addiction again. I guess time will only tell.

There is one major thing that I have learned about when trying to stop. That is, having someone you truly trust will help you incredibly. They can be there to help make sense of things or for support. Whatever you need.

Right now, I am doing better. I have not cut in almost 2 years and I rarely even feel that need. Most of the time I cover my scars. They once made me feel strong but now I know that they came from weakness instead. I get really sad when I look at them. So, most of the time I avoid it. If I could go back in time I would change things but alas I can't. All I can do is warn anyone thinking about it not to. It is not worth it. You will feel worse in the end. Most importantly life will get better in time. I hope this helps someone out there. I just wish that I had someone had been there to tell me. Though I probably would not have listened.

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submitted by: casketdreamer
on: 19 Feb. 2006
in Ritual

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