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Jessie
Copyright, Jessie
I have been cutting for... almost three years. I am 16. I guess the first time that I cut was when I was at work... alone in the store, and I had just had a conversation with this guy friend of mine. I had been raped a few weeks before, and hadn't told anyone. but I needed to. I tried and tried and tried to get up the courage, but finally couldn't, and he left. I sat there, alone. hating myself for letting it happen (getting raped), hating myself for not being able to tell even one of my closest friends. I was feeling really violently angry with myself, and hit my wrist as hard as I could against the table. This really calmed me down, and when I saw the pair of scissors sitting there, I didn't think twice. I raked it down the side of my hand and wrist. The cut was probably about three or four inches long, wasn't deep, but bled a lot. I sat there, holding the scissors in my hand, a paper towel around my wrist, and caught my breath. It calmed me down, I put some music on, and a smile came across my face. It sounds stupid, but I felt that I had sufficiently punished myself, and that next time I saw him it would be different. I spent the rest of the day smiling, greeting people and doing my job like it was no different than any other day. Whenever I felt frustrated, or felt like I was going to cry, I just dug my fingernails into my cut. That was the first time. I guess after that, everytime I failed, didn't do something right or say the right thing to the right person, I would cut myself. again and again telling myself it would be different next time. The way I was thinking though, I think was related to when I was raped. I consistently feel worthless, used,hurt, and a complete burden on all of my friends. I have pushed away some of the most important people in my life, all the while telling myself that its better for them, not to be around me and waste their time on me. My friend, one of my old closest friends... eventually realized what I was doing. he asked me about it (i was completely wasted at the time) and i was honest with him. it meant a lot to me, because he was the first person who realized, the first person who knew. it changed things for us, he was always treating me like i was really fragile, always giving me extra attention and time. I guess thats what I wanted, but I couldn't see why he would do that for me, it didn't make sense... why waste your time on someone as screwed up as me, he stopped talking to me about eight months ago and to this day i'm not sure why, but i'm sure its because he got sick of me and all of my problems. cutting to me, is simple. its a way of punishing myself, keeping myself under control. its a way of proving to myself that i'm not living in a dream, feeling the cut, seeing the blood, brings me back to reality. i screw up peoples lives, and i can't take that back. but i can, even if they never see it or understand why, draw that on my skin. draw the story. do i feel like i need to stop? no. I don't know where I would be without it. I don't need to talk to some damned counselor, because what the hell do they know.. where do they get off telling my how to live my life? my parents don't know, or don't care. I came home with a star carved into me leg... my mom asked me what it was. I told her i was drawing on my skin with a safety pin and went too deep, and she was like, OK. i don't come from an abusive family. i've had a really abusive relationship, physically as well as verbally, but my family has been great, aside the fact that they either don't realize, or won't acknowledge what i'm doing. but I dont really care, I mean, at least they are leaving me to myself. at least they grant me that one freedom. I don't cut to kill, I cut to punish and to try to learn from my mistakes. When I have suicidal thoughts, that pushes me to want to talk to someone, but I get through it, I have only actually tried twice. Another entry here asked... when you look in the mirror, honestly, what do you see? what do i see? I see confusion. I see someone who is wearing black where everyone else is wearing white. I see someone who looks at the world in a slightly darkened way, but is accustomed to it, and sees nothing wrong with it.