Self-mutilation: It is known probably as cutting to most people. But to myself and to fellow cutters, our slang was known as SI. I started cutting myself when I was 12. It was brought into my mind by a girl who had abused me a few years back. She had forced my friends and I to bring her a steak knife and then watch her give herself a "tattoo". She sliced her arm up. It was a negative thought in my mind, yet when I was struggling one night, I wanted to try it as well. I started off with a safety pin. Nothing too sharp. I just dragged the pin across my forearm. It didn't even draw blood. Just scratched the surface. Later on I moved into making some shapes in my arm, like X's and stars and shit. I took a sewing needle, which was a little sharper. I would pierce my skin, known I suppose to this day as play piercing, but it wasn't as extreme. Finally I moved up to razors. I was at a party one night and we were downstairs in his basement. His father had a woodwork room down there and I was looking around and I found a box of huge razors. Up until then, I had been tearing apart my Bic razors. Now I had a real razor. And not just one. Tons. It was great. The razors were sharp and could pierce my skin. I cut up my entire forearm. Horizontal lines. I did it possibly because it kept me alive. I wasn't trying to kill myself. And I liked the blood. And I liked what it added to my body. Finally my school caught me one day with my sleeves rolled up. I was suspended for the following reasons: It wasn't a good thing for my peers to see (you must understand I live in the most preppy upper-class conservative town in America) and I had a weapon in school. Yes, a razor is now considered a serious weapon. So I was put into therapy. I continued to cut. But I knew that I couldn't cut anywhere where people may see. I started with my hips. Each cut was made deeper, piercing veins. I loved watching the blood come up and then smearing it across my legs. I cut up my upper thighs. Finally one night I opened a vein with my razor. I cut right through it and needed stitches immediately. But there was no way I was going to expose myself and say that I had been cutting. I taped my skin together with scotch tape and but some cream on it. I changed the tape four times a day, and yes I still have a scar, but it healed quite nicely. I also cut my ribs, ankles. I burned myself with lighters, cigarette butts, and incense. I plucked hair from everywhere I could with tweezers. I banged my wrists with chains until they were bruised. I punched walls to bruise and cut up my knuckles. It became my life. I couldn't live without it. I tried to stop, but I was addicted. My horse was killed in July last summer in a fire. 31 of my horses were killed. I couldn't handle it. My horse was my life, my world. We trained and were top in the country in my division. I showed all over. I trained horses and helped people purchase from Europe. I traveled all over. And now it seemed like it was all over. I cut up my arm again. I couldn't handle being without my horse. My cutting started up again, and continued until I started riding again.
But I have stopped for the most part. I use my innerpain to be expressed in other ways. I have my bellybutton pierced and plan to do a project on that. I have a bunch of piercings all over my ear. My holes are stretched to 12g and 14g so far. My parents had some problems with it, so I don't have anything else done right now. I am getting my tattoos done, though, next week. My first one is planned to say in calligraphy :Been There Done That. It'll be on my back or stomach. My horse who died's showname was that, so it's in memory. I still have scars all over my body, but I'm not ashamed. It's part of my life. And it was a large part of it. Now I am showing my "pain" or whatever you want to call it, through art, and I'm quite proud of that. I still slip though. I have cut myself. There is always going to be that bump in the road. And I still have my razors. They're all hidden away, but still there. I don't know why, but they are.
submitted by: Anonymous
on: 12 June 2001