Well, how do I even begin to start off with such a controversial subject as ritual cutting? I think I will start with this; it has been a controversial subject for many years because it is hard for many people to even begin to wonder why on earth someone would cut on them selves for whatever reason. And some of you reading this may be asking yourself that same question. The first conclusion that many come to is that people cut on themselves because they want to die. The seem to think that it is an act of suicide of related to that in the sense that if someone is doing this then it is a cry for help and they want someone to notice so they don't actually commit suicide. This is all in fact very wrong information. I can't tell you from first hand experience that it is not the want or need to die that we do this. It is our way of coping with life's troubles. It is our way of release, a sense of relief afterwards.
At A Glance Author anonymous Contact anonymous@bme.anon When N/A Artist self You see the way that most people deal with emotional pain is by doing whatever relaxes them. Some people like to take baths, some people like to draw or whatever the case may be. But people that resort to cutting are mainly in capable of coping with these issues. Or are quite capable of coping with tem but would rather not do it. I resorted to cutting because I felt that it was easier for me to replace the emotional pain with physical. It was easier to deal with that way. Isn't it? I mean if you get a cut you clean it of put some Neosporin on it a band aid and its done right? Seems a lot less complicated than anyway to deal with emotional pain. With emotional pain you can't just put a band aid on it and call it good. But this is something that you have to be very careful about. And here is where I start on about my experience.
To start off I would like to explain the situation. My boyfriend whom I was in love with at the time had broken up with me just hours before the incident. My mother had kicked me out of the house. I was failing every class in school and could not seem to do much of anything right. I was losing friends left and right getting arrested and/or running from the cops nightly and had people openly telling me they wanted me to die and kill myself. Life was indeed a living hell.
So I got home that night all angered and full of rage. Now unlike some very experienced cutters I had no set up I grabbed the blade and went to town at the first inkling of emotional distress. So I walked up to my room same as usual.(Mom had told me if I didn't come home that night she'd report me as a runaway and I'd be arrested.) closed my door grabbed the razorblade and stared away. At first I started out like I always did with a few long but not so deep cuts. But soon I got the most enormous wave of rage rushing over me and I put the blade to my wrist and slashed pulling back with fury as fast and as hard as I could making a centimeter deep 3 inch long gash diagonal across my wrist. This became one of the most brutal cases of cutting I had ever encountered and I'd been cutting since the ripe young age of 13.
The blood dripped down my hand and fingertips spilling all over my homework on the floor. I couldn't think of anything to do so I sat on my bed & called my best friend. He was begging to come and bandage me up he thought I was going to die that night, so did I. I grabbed a dirty towel stumbling to the bathroom across the hall began to wrap it in toilet paper and apply the needed amount of pressure. I was losing so much blood that I was beginning to faint. It wasn't the sight of blood that shocked me that night it was that thought that, I never wanted to do this to kill myself. I just wanted to free myself of the pain. I just wanted to be able to let go for a few minutes breath go to sleep wake up and be ok. Little did I know that this time may be the last I went to sleep ever again.
I managed to hobble back to my room drop the phone and pass out just as I got to my bed. By the time I passed out the bleeding had slowed down to what a normal not so bad cut would be nothing to worry about it was all the loss of blood that made me pass out.
Well when I awoke to my alarm for school the next day I was surprised to find I'd survived the night. I was very weak and disorientated. I got ready for school as usual but half way through the day everytime Id try to write it would tear open one time it opened so bad it spilled blood all over the desk and I was sent to the nurse's office. This arose a lot of questions and I was sent to the hospital. When I got there it was a huge mess and later on I had to run away so they wouldn't stick me in an insane asylum like they wanted until I was arrested again and brought back home. Well the doctors there told me it was amazing id survived that long without going to the hospital with how much I lost. They also told me that I needed 6 stitches to close it up but since it had been now 12 hours afterwards all they could do is let it heal on its own.
It was a very scary experience and I have since then completely stopped cutting but now after all the years am left with over 125 scars on my arms completely visible to the public. And I hate when people ask about them. I strongly urge all that have considered or are doing this to please stop. Sure you may not mean it and want to die but what if you mess up like me. Sure you never meant for it to go that far, but if you start, it will. Stop while you still can before it's too late.