And in that one fleeting instance...
Disclaimer: The following experience is a low point for me in two ways, mentally and intellectually, please understand I realize that this is probably one of the dumbest things I have done, I am not proud of it and regret it greatly. First some background information...
Cutting to me has always been a form of release. I'm generally a happy guy, but I guess my moods can change pretty quickly. I wouldn't say its been a problem before, I do not cut too deep (just deeper enough to draw blood) and although I scar easily they are well hidden below my boxers. None but one of my close friends know about this, although they joke about with me being "Emo" and cutting myself all the time.
On with the story.
Last week I had a party, as with most parties copious amount of alcohol was consumed, mainly due to my new love interest believing she could drink me under the table. I'm not when but at some point late in the night, after many people had left, I was just feeling stressed. This being the first party I have ever had the chance to thrown, and my utter lack of control over everyone and everything, I'm not what people would call assertive, I decide to slink my way upstairs into my room.
Sitting on my bed, I remembered that I have a razor in my draw so I proceed to take it out. The initial plan was to take of my watch make a slight cut, just enough to make me feel a bit better, clean it up and throw my watch back on.
Well things didn't turn out to plan.
I'm not sure if it was the alcohol making me more confident or not knowing how much pressure I applied, to be honest it was probably a combination of the both.
But as I pulled the razor away from my arm I saw my skin peel apart and blood, lots more than I have previously seen. I had cut too deep and in that one fleeting instance, any power that cutting gave me over my own body, was lost. I was not worried about the cut, blood isn't something new to me even though it was a lot, and I found the cut almost intriguing. The slit rand right across the top of my wrist and from the top it almost looked as if I could peel the skin right from my hand like some sort of glove. What was worrying me the most, was that I knew wasn't going to cover it up and joint the party. What was I supposed to do? How would I explain myself?
The one friend who does know about me cutting, was passed out on my couch, with drawings butter and mince sauce on him ( I was not involved in any of this) so I was feeling slightly panicky. I stepped out my room and luckily saw an unfamiliar face, I don't recall her name, she was one my mates girlfriends friends, but I am thankful to her.
As I recall the first thing I said makes so little sense now. I saw her and immediately ask
"Umm how much do you know about like the whole body mood scene and stuff?"
Ok I was stereotyping, but she had a few piercings and fitted the image, and I was drunk so blah.
I guess the thought process behind my question was if she said yes, she may be familiar with BME and if she was she wouldn't be too shocked.
She said a bit and so I raised my arm, surprisingly to me she didn't even flinch, her reaction was along the lines of oh... and lead me into the bathroom to run it under a tap. Sitting there for about ten minutes, she didn't ask me what happened, which I respect a lot we just made general chit chat. Then the girl I was interested in wandered upstairs and took over for her. This was the last thing I wanted to happen, cutting is just for me, I didn't want her thinking I was looking for attention. But she was cool about it as well, called me an idiot a few times, then went downstairs to get supplies to put together a makeshift bandage. After I had it wrapped up, I let out a sigh release, got a small kiss then made my way back downstairs to join the others, for the rest of the night I was just telling people, oh I had a lilt accident with a knife don't worry.
I woke up the next day in my bed with Natalie and took the bandage of, my head was pounding, realization sunk in about my cut and I had a beautiful girl laying next to me as you can expect my emotions were a little muddled, so I just laid there for an hour or two.
Once everyone left I jumped onto my pc to look for anyway to treat it, all I found was that i should go to hospital to get stitches, but that wasn't going to happen, heck I couldn't even afford to catch a bus down to the hospital, and with my head still pounding the last thing I wanted to do was explain to some doctor or nurse what happened with them looking down there nose at me. So I cleaned it with TCP and left it alone.
4 days later, and it still looks like an open wound accept its a bit scabbed inside now. I'm not two worried, but its going to leave a pretty scar.....wonder how I'm going too explain that all the time.
This is my worst on most likely my last cut and in a way I'm glad it happened around people, if it didn't I wouldn't know how I would have coped with the situation.
There isn't really a moral to this story, I guess if there was it would be that if you do cut, don't ever do it in an altered state, if your not aware of what your doing, you could do a lot more harm than intended.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 10 Aug. 2006