Me for Me

Copyright, Chellsey

Growing up I had a hard time. My parents fought a lot and they used to hit and whip me — they say I was a bad kid. Both parents emotionally abused me since before I can remember. I was diagnosed with ADD at a very young age — which led to bipolar as I got older. Nothing was recognized professionally until I was heard (my cutting). I always had a hard time at school. Everyone saw me as weird (kids, teachers, counsellors) — I always felt like an alien, like I didn’t belong. I never really had any friends until 7th grade. Going into high school I was a content person — I had a life and friends — “supposedly”. Christmas came sophomore year and my world fell apart. One of my “good” friends spread a lie to everyone and everyone who heard it believed it and said I was the liar. I lost all my friends and my very best friend Jac (who I had helped with her problems, well, I tried). I also soon found out that my three year relationship with my boyfriend never really existed considering he was cheating on me after six months of our relationship. I later found out the girl he cheated on me with had his kids (twins). Everything happened so fast — so I fell into a long period of shock. I didn’t know what to do — everything was building higher and higher inside of me. I had held everything in for so long and crying about it never did anything. I soon forgot to cry and the summer of my sophomore year I was cutting — and I loved it. I had opened a release for myself that I didn’t want to stop. I quickly became addicted to cutting — then cutting got boring so I started burning with hot metals and candles. When that didn’t satisfy me I wouldn’t eat for days. For about one and a half years no one saw my problem — I covered it well. My parents found out one night because I almost bled to death. I had cut pretty deep into my arm and severed many of my veins. It was like a bright red stream that kept flowing — and I liked seeing it and watching it. Cutting brought peace and relaxation to me — it made eveything bad go away for a while. The mixed and crazy thoughts that played in my head non-stop all day dissapeared after I cut at night. I cut at least 950 times in the span of about four months. Because my parents found out I ended up getting a very good therapist who has been helping me — it worked to an extent. I havent cut in two whole months, but I always have the urge to. It will be long before I think I’m ready to fully put my sharp “friends” away. As of now I have some severe scars on my arms and thighs, I never intend on surgically having them fixed. My scars are a part me and apart of a time in my life that I feel is important. I want people to understand what is it and I want the world to have and understanding for self-mutilators. Anyone who wants to e-mail me and talk about self-mutilation — I’m up for discussion.


Permanent location: