Copyright, Angela

Well this is the story of why I started to SI and why I’m trying to stop. It all started in about 5th grade. I wasn’t all that popular and a lot of my so called friends made fun of me and they always brought me down. And I wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box so my parents always thought less of me because my sister was such a brilliant student and all. And it always seemed that my dad didn’t care for me. he would always hit me and yell at me for little things and I never told anyone so it ate away at me inside so I started to cut so I wouldn’t have to think about anything else but the external pain. So as I got older it just seemed to get worse. In the 6th grade I became quite popular and I became addicted to cutting and I couldn’t stop which didn’t make sense since all I ever wanted was to be popular and I finally got it but for all the wrong reasons. But now that I’m going into high school I finally think it’s time for me to stop so I can meet new people that won’t think I’m a freak and befriend me for who I really am.


Copyright, Angela

Walking into the blackness with my eyes shut!

  • Have you ever closed your eyes and you are the only one that exists?
  • Have you ever walked into the darkness?
  • Have you ever draged a razor blade against your skin and then smiled?
  • Have you ever overdosed on a drug and then laid there and thought this is my life?

If you have done any of this things you know where I’m coming from. And what this is about.

I had so much pain built up inside me and I didn’t know what from or why I had it! One day I was outside in our barn with some friends and I jumped off our loft and when I fell I cut my arm on a barbred wire. And it hurt like hell but I felt good. But I couldn’t tell any one that.

I was in my own little world and all the pain I had in me had no way of getting out and I just took a steak knife from our kitchen and I dragged it along my upper arm. I felt a sting and the cool red blood running down my arm.

Once I realized that the cutting helped I kept the knife under my mattress so whenever I needed it it was there. At first I would just lie in my room and cut my upper arm, I would cut till I couldn’t bear it anymore and that took a long time! Then I started using guys to ease the pain once cutting wasn’t helping, and I was drinking like an alcholic and that’s most likely what I was. But I still cut and cut.

But summer came around and and I started cutting places that people wouldn’t see them like on my chest and on the bottom of my feet. I wore short revealing clothes and so I had to cut in places people wouldn’t see.

Later on I started writing words in my skin like run die fat cut, and I tried each and every one of those!

I was getting better I had cut less and less but I still had this pain and I started to drink and have sex with random guys instead of leaving physical scars I ended up leaving emotional scars.

I ended up running away from home in august of 2001 with a guy I didn’t even know the last name of all I knew was his name was Jorge and he had cocaine. I ended up leaving him and hitchhiking 300 miles. I was finally caught.

And I have been clean now of everything for 5 months. I know what life can be like without all our horrors we put ourselves through.

I still to this day think of taking a razor blade or broken glass to my arms, and I still think of running, but I can’t do it, I can’t go through that anymore.

Walking into the light with my eyes wide open.


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