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I'm not afraid to cut.........my little reminders.

I remember first cutting myself with the broken corner of a ruler in an attempt for pain and a pointless scar. I can't remember how old I was but the scar never lasted more than about a week. When I got older, I realised that cutting was such a release and a good way for me to let my anger out. I started out using a compass, repeatedly scratching just trying to get a scar. This would work reasonably well and I would cut my wrist, just once, every now and again. The scars were only faint but I soon realised that it was possible that they could be noticed. So, one day when I was really down, I started hacking away at my ankle. But this time a compass was not enough. I grabbed a pair of nail scissors and started to scar away. Again, it was just one line but this time the skin started to break (my scars had never bled before). I was happy at this result and the adrenaline rushed through me as I realised what I was doing.

I was quite depressed at this time and it was last summer, about nine months ago when I realised that cutting was for me, and helped me cope. I was a bit messed up at the time over a certain person and decided I wanted a permanent memory of them (looking back, I'm still unsure whether this was a good idea). So I decided to scratch an 'E' into the inside of my heel. Here, it was unable to really be seen and it felt more personal to me. I again, scratched away with my compass and my scissors and was happy with the result.

I had wanted a tattoo for so long, and I had always had a passion for stars. They seem so over rated but they are personal to me. So, knowing my life would be over if I actually got a tattoo, I decided to scar it. I thought it would look cute on my wrist so again, went through the process. I scarred the design in roughly with the compass and made a light scar. I then went over it with my nail scissors, breaking the skin lightly. There was a little blood this time, which made me feel better about what I was doing, like it was finally paying off. I was used to the pain by now, but it still gave me a thrill, which really did hurt. After I had finished, I loved my star scar. It had a slight scab over it for about a week and a half and then when I was in the shower it started to peel off. Once the whole scab was off I was delighted with my scar. It was not that raised but enough.

A bit later on in the year, I was again going through a rough patch and although had been self-harming for a while, I had never used a blade and had never properly bled. I felt violent one evening and before I knew it I had broken the plastic off the edge of a disposable razor and had the blade in my hand. I did not bother sterilising; it did not seem to come into my mind at the time. I decided to cut my thigh, the skin here was more than just bone and it would be easy to cover up. Before I knew it I had swiped the razor over my thigh. I was so surprised at how little pain there was. The blood slowly started to seep out and as I watched it run down my leg I realised I had uncovered something new. I cut again, and again, and it felt great.

I then went over my star scar with the razor (which was getting a bit rusty by now). Only lightly this time so there was blood, but it wasn't gushing. My star is now, about nine months on, slightly raised up and a peachy pink colour. And I love it! I am glad I did it and I hope it lasts. I am still cutting; a blade is so easy that it feels almost natural to me now. I mainly cut at my thigh, but when I just want a single cut, I use my arm or my hand. I have to make up stories about how I got them, but this is sometimes fun for me. I don't regret cutting because I still do it. I know it may get out of hand soon, but it is my release and I will keep on doing it if I need to. Everyone sees me as a happy, smiley, maybe even lucky, person. But they don't know what is underneath. I have my problems and this is my way of dealing with them. I sometimes think that I need help but at the moment I'm happy doing what I do. I want to stop and if it gets put of hand, hopefully I will be able to.....And I'm not ashamed!


submitted by: Anonymous
on: 27 May 2005
in Scarification

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