Copyright, Curt

I remember ever since I was 4. I always used to find some way to hurt myself. At that age I wasn’t really sure if it was intentionally or not. But I soon came to realize I enjoyed it. So about 9 years of age I would start to burn myself or take a kitchen knife and run it up and down may arm for the pure feeling of the steel slicing through my flesh. The blood wasn’t a factor until I became older. It was exilarating to see my own blood flow. I thought it was rather beautiful, I’m not sure why. I think it was the fact that it was my blood and it smelled so good and it had a certain gleam of light to it. Who knows. It made me feel good. But the day I finally realized it wasn’t too smart to be doing that to myself it was kind of too late. I remember the day exactly. February 18th 2000. In the school bathroom. I had recently had a few girlfreind problems and a few family problems. The usual school clique problems which every teen who is “different” goes through. As well as some unusual things that I now know what they are. Voices and hallucinations. It wasn’t too clear on what exactly these things were at the time but they drove me crazy. I was sitting in the bathroom cutting myself as usual. It became a routine every day right after 1st period. I would slice my arms up a little bit then go back out into the class and finish what I was doing. But this time, this one time the teacher for some odd reason became skeptical of what I was doing in there for so long, so he brought me down to the office and I sat in the principal’s office and he started to ask me a few questions. I just nodded him off trying to get the hell out of there and get through the rest of the day. But for some odd reason he wanted me to empty my pockets. So I did. As I placed a few knives and razors on his desk he couldn’t help to notice the fresh blood on them as well as the dime bag of weed sitting next to them. Well he said he was calling the police and at the time that was scary because I was on probation. Not a good thing to hear when you’re on probation. So I guess I kind of flipped out. I sat in the office for about ten minutes and then walked out to the cafeteria and grabbed a butcher’s knife. Without any hesitation I walked out the door and ran up the street, climbed a fence and ran across a field into a farm. The whole time I’m running I’m stabbing myself in the arm. I turned around and realized I had a teacher following me so I took the knife and pointed it at him and said “I swear to god if you come near me I will fucking kill you. It’s best if you stay away and let me die alone as I came into this world. alone.” Harsh words now that I look back on them. But sure enough here came the police rolling down the street, their sirens flaring and screaming. Causing traffic jams and stoppage of traffic. As I came near the entrance of the farm, two cop cars pulled up and stopped. As one of the officers jumped out of his car, get this, he forgot to put it in park, so the car rolled backwards. That’s when I saw my opportunity to haul ass down the street. As I did I ran like the wind, and boom, a huge police truck pulled out right in front of me and I ran into the door. After picking myself back up off the ground I grabbed the knive and stabbed myself once in the stomach. Right under the bottom left rib, close to my kidneys. As I did that a few cops came and maced me and threw me down to the ground. After cleaning me up, wiping the blood off and sitting me up I had tears rolling down my face like a stream during the spring. That’s the first time I cried in 11 years. As I was sitting there I couldn’t help but notice all the passers-by staring at me like they have nothing better to do than stare at a kid in dispair and anguish, who just attempted suicide. And laugh, yes they had mustered up the balls to laugh. How sad is that? It shows you how people really are. As I felt even worse than I did before the principal came up to me and asked me what I was thinking. In a futile attempt to actually make words I muttered “it hurts in my heart”. Then he stared for a second looking me over from head to toe as if I was a sideshow freak and just nodded his head and walked away. At that point I felt so bad I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. They stuck me in an ambulance and took me to a hospital. After I woke up I was in a white room with one window and a door and a rubber blue bed. For 6 days I just lay there. I didn’t get up to go to the bathroom I didn’t eat or speak I didn’t do anything. The only time I moved was when my blanket came off my head. I grabbed it and placed it back on my head and went back to sleep. I cried for about 5 to 6 days straight it felt so horrible to be me. To be alive. I wasn’t sure if anyone would want me back or what. So some people came into my room and woke me up and said we’re going for a ride. I said whatever, just if your going to take me anywhere you’re going to have to carry me because I’m not moving. So sure enough they put me on a gurney and in another ambulance and about 45 minutes later I was in a mental institute. Now as weird as this sounds I had the best year of my life in those mental hospitals. Sure, I didn’t stop self mutilating, but I gained a lot of confidence by meeting a lot of people like me in there. I made some friends, too, that I still try to hang out with. But I went back and forth between hospitals that year. A few times I spent about 4 weeks at home that year. About a month. But now that I look back on these things as well as a few others, I feel so ashamed. Rather sick. Sure, I still have a few of those tendencies, such as the hatred and rudeness and solitude. I still sit at home with nothing to do daily and nowhere to go. And I pick out the littlest things about people that piss me off. Sure enough I have the little voice in the back of my head that tells me to do it again. A little urge to feel that feeling again. But I’ve been pretty good so far and it’s been about 2 years, maybe a little less since I’ve last had that problem with hurting myself. Basically I’m trying to let you all know, you will grow out of it, you will find better and different things to do. You will basically mature from the whole experience and become a better person. One way or another it will be OK. Good luck, and be careful poeople.


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