At A Glance
Author	Teh Spiked Tiffy
Contact	Spiked_Tiffy@hotmail.com
When	N/A
Artist	Myself
Studio	At Home
Location	Anchorage, Alaska

I cut myself, or used to, shall I say. I stopped a few months ago, however, I have experiences I'll tell in here.

Firstly, I'm 15, nearly 16, I've been into body-mods since I can remember, a friend and I were talking about it, so finally, I got up the guts, after already having probably six to eight piercings in my ears. If I can handle the pain from piercings, I figured I could handle the pain from a blade, or in the case of my first time, it was a needle.

My First Time:

After talking to my friend on the internet, I got the needle, and went in my room, I rolled up both of my sleeves, and pressed harshly against me skin, then pulled it in the direction I wanted to go, my skin splitting and the crimson liquid dripping down my arm. It was so intense, though it was just a few cuts in the shape of a star, I loved it, and became, shall you phrase it, obsessed with it. Though, often times, I don't think that's bad.

For the next few days, I started experimenting, shoving the needle into my skin, instead of cutting, enjoying the after-ward feeling of stinging. It was great, it was like ecstasy.

A week or so later, I decided to try to cut with something else. I ravaged through drawers in my house, looking for something, but what? And that's when I found a sharp box cutter, a razor within the plastic handle, this time, quite shaken and nervous, I went into the bathroom to take a bath. I got in the bath-tub naked, as I let the burning hot water fill the tub, I pressed hard and quickly ran the blade against my arm again. Shit, it hurt a lot more than before, and cut a lot deeper before. Go figure, an old blade is sharper than a needle, who would have known (*Sarcasm*). I continued to cut myself, cutting my entire lower arm, from my wrist to my elbow, the bath water soon turning from the clear and transparent color, to dark reddish crimson, this scared me somewhat, not knowing how much I should let myself bleed, but I took tissue, and placed it upon my arm until it stopped bleeding, which was quite a while from when I had first cut them, but I knew that I wasn't light-headed, so I kept cool.

After that experiment, I began cutting my wrist more, making designs in my arm, some were just lines that I thought would look great as a scar, and some were cuts meant to look like nail scratches. I loved it. It was a new hobby for me. But soon, it became even more addictive. I couldn't go a day without cutting myself.

People soon began to worry about The Tiffy, wondering what was wrong with her, I would often look depressed, and out of it as if I had a hang over, but they just thought it was because of school. One day, I was undressing, and my friend saw my arm, that was when everything bad started. Everybody was nagging at me, to stop cutting, yet every night I went home and cut more, because I was addicted. When I was depressed, I would cut myself any more, when I was bored, I would cut. It hurt myself, and the people around me.

That's when I started going out with Chris. Chris helped me sometimes, and sometimes made my habit worse, he got himself into cutting as well. One day I found out that he had cut my name into his upper arm, so I went into the bathroom and took another bath, cutting a large "CHRIS" into my lower arm, passing out 8 times while cutting.

That was it.

That was when I had reached my limit.

I told myself I would no longer cut, and it's so hard, It's like going on a diet that wont allow you to have your favorite food, you still want it so bad, yet you try not to, but for some reason something in your head always gets it going again.

To any of you that read this, if you do it and your addicted to it, I really suggest to stop, and if you haven't done it yet, you shouldn't. If you want the scar from it, get it done professionally, don't do it at home. It can often-times get the best of you.

And like myself, when I did it to cheer myself up, it never cheered me up, it never got rid of my problems, in fact, it only mentally made them go away. They just came back later, worse, and it still hurt the people I loved. Without Chris, without my friends, I would be nowhere.

I still plan to get body modifications done, I'm still in love with them, but self ritual cutting is something that from now on when asked to do so, I think I'll pass on.

And thus, I conclude this.

Adieu.