How It All Began
Four long years of cutting have taken their toll on me, on my mind, my emotions and most noticably, my body. I started cutting when I was thirteen. I did it to distract myself from memories that haunted me. It became almost fun… to see how much pain I could take before I started crying. I wanted to rid myself of emotions, so I cut myself over and over until I felt nothing, no pain, no regret. Hundreds of times, over and over, until the day my parents found out. I didn’t hide my cuts, so they knew, they didn’t care until my school noticed. So I quit for a few weeks. Then I started all over again. I’ve been doing it ever since then. Last week I put seventy cuts across my arm in a matter of minutes, the most I have ever done at once. In an odd way, I still try to test myself even further with pain tolerance, and emotional shutdown. I don’t know if I can ever stop cutting, or even if I really want to but I am going to try.