To say where this all started would be a revelation to me. When it started I didn't even know I was doing it. Now days this is so overly talked about on shows and written in lyrics it's almost a fashion. Girls and boys thinking they are hardcore and profound. Well to me this is just a story, and I don't know if there is any conclusion to it.. but it's mine.
At A Glance Author Mo Contact Mo@bme.anon When N/A Artist ME Studio EVERYWHERE Feeling alone in high school isn't anything new. This all started when all my friends were around me and I notices blood dripping from my hands because I had dug my fingernails so far into my skin without even noticing. I know this is not cutting but for many it is the start of a great relationship.
I don't know why but I remember taking a pen cap that was all chewed up and running it back and forth until I was satisfied on how much blood was running down my thigh. Nothing to have any scars there till this day, but enough to make me cringe in the shower for a few days.
I did this about once a month until my senior year. I got drunk on New Years and for some reason ran into my friends bathroom and started slicing away at my wrists. I got up now satisfied and went and hung out with my friends. Of course they noticed my sweaters cuffs had blood on them; but soon didn't care because I thew them off with a good girl on girl make out session.
The same thing happened on the night of graduation with a big party and to much alcohol and a stone wall. I was talking with all my friends and had my arms to the other side of the wall just running them back and forth.
All these cuts go away into tiny white scars that no one notices. So it's not that bad and so it never becomes a problem. Sometimes you have cuts that are seen by others, and you make up excuses. Dumb ones that sound like freak accidents, but no one is really the wiser.
At 18 I moved out on my own and did not have to answer to no one. I could talk about how I do this when I am feeling so much pain and I want to direct the pain into a bloody cut, but then I more enjoy the stories of how these beautiful cuts are performed.
One night after a sexual episode the guy left my house and forgot his Kershaw pocket knife. That thing stays sharp! It has a smooth edge for warm deep cuts, and it has a jagged part for angry messy cuts. That friend was great and left me with flat scars that I still have today but can not be noticed to greatly.
It became something I just did. My friend found out and told me to stop... but was me and there was no reason for me to stop or want to. This is the best thing ever. I loved that feeling and the sight of blood. I got such satisfaction in seeing my work. While the cuts healed was almost a test on my creativity; until winter came around and there is no need for creativity.
My knife was upstairs, and while cleaning I found a razor blade in my drawer. It was rusty, but sharp none the less. I sometimes did my cutting like a ritual. I would sometimes make a bath and put candles around and turned on my favorite self hating CD. I loved it when my bathwater is red, and when I got out you could tell where the water level was on me because of a red line.
The thing about very sharp razor blades is that you do not have to push as hard as a knife. It was great. I sat out on my front porch and drank and smoked and I did about 15 cuts on my forearm and across my wrist.(my favorite place to do it)This time was a little different though. It was amazing how clean and far this razor cut. It hurt so good. I just thought about how easy it would be to just end it all right there. But I never wanted to kill myself. Suicide kids are people are in there own class and to have that much balls to do that is something I just don't have.
I forgot to clean all the blood off the porch because I had to go pick up my friend from work. I couldn't think of no excuse except I don't know what that is.
Every time those cuts scabbed over I would pick them and watch more blood come out. I did that all the time but these ones were so messy. Picking them was almost as good as cutting because I would grab one end of the scab and rip the whole thing off. Then it was like a brand new cut.
These ones didn't heal like the others. It is now summer and today it was 98 degrees outside. I had a long sleeve shirt on and again I have to hide. These scars that I got from this are very dark and very raised.
To get rid of them would be great but I can't get rid of them on my own. I tried to scrub all my arm skin off with a rough stone. Kind of start a new canvas if you will. But that does not work on these scars. I was desperate and I turned to my mom.
My mom knew about my problem but I told her a while ago it was over. So she was oddly understanding but she made me go to therapy and take Zoloft for my depression and anxiety attacks. Three months later I am out of my medication and won't go to therapy anymore. Screw those sessions. I cured myself. This cutting thing was my best friend until it made me not be able to wear some things and make me understand that it did nothing for me.
Now I am trying to figure out a way to get rid of them. I don't know if I will try something surgical, or try to find out if this might give me an excuse to get a lower arm sleeve. I love tattoos! Either way my advice, not that I am in anyway a good advice giver, is if you need to cut, do it on your thighs or groin area. Those places are nice and painful and are easier to hide.