My Journey

Copyright, Elizabeth

I have been cutting since I was nine and have had a very badly emotionally beaten life. I came accross this site and saw that it would be usefull since I have no health insurance and cannot apply for anything. So far it has helped to be able to know that there is reachable help out there and that I am not the only one there. I would strongly suggest to anyone searching for themselves to seek government help and ‘other’ resources than cutting themselves. It only makes things worse and more complicated. E-mail me if you get a chance and want to talk. I will reply to you. I am still getting help for myself and trying to get these painful thoughts out of my heart and mind, I am still there to help. I am still healing, but available.

My Journey

Copyright, Elizabeth

My name is Elizabeth, or Liz. It’s my real name and I don’t mind anyone knowing. I am fifteen and I have been cutting for two years now. I am ashamed of what I have done, but mostly just from the scars produced from it. I am sick of the stares I get when people notice. I am sick of receiving change from the grocer and them glancing down, being shocked, and then trying to act like they don’t think I am crazy. Cutting doesn’t mean I am crazy and I have come to terms with this now.

When my mom saw my first cut, on the spot, I told her my snowboard fell and I went to catch it blah, blah, blah. What bull. She got so angry and frightened when she saw more cuts. This made me want to hide the scars. I didn’t cut for attention, nor do I now. It was more a release and I hate when people notice. I have five younger brothers, three are adopted and the man who I call dad now is not my biological father although he is the only father I have ever known. I was sexually assualted when I was fourteen by a friend and went through court hearings. He told the judge in front of me that I wanted him, I couldn’t resist. That isn’t why I started cutting, but it sure didn’t help me stop. I can’t tell you the real reason I started cutting I only know that I feels better after. I have tried to find God numerous times, but it seems each time I have truly believed I am let down so bad.

I know this might sound bad, but the reason I am trying to stop is only partially because of my family. The other half is because of my karate instructor. He saw my cuts during class one night and pulled me aside after to talk to me. He looked frightened and concerned. I have never felt so ashamed in my life. He is twenty-five years old and for some reason I have never wanted to impress and not let someone down so much as I do with him. If anyone can give me tips on scar removal products I’d appreciate it. There is more to my story, but it’s lenghty and I don’t want to be graphic. Thanks and good luck to you. Love for all, Liz.


Copyright, Elizabeth

I’m sure that my story is just like everyone else’s story about their eating disorder and self injury. But that’s not the point of this. I just once and for all want to put this down on paper in my own words, instead of what every therapist I have seen over the years says. They have their idea of me and I have mine.

Self injury was a problem for me ever since I started high school. At the beginning it was just a random eraser burn here and there. But once my boyfriend at the time started to get very abusive, it turned into full heat burns and cuts. My mom would probably tell you that it is my father’s fault but I’d disagree with her. My father has never had much of an impact on me in my life. You see, my parents have been divorced ever since I could remember and we always lived in separate states. So seeing my father only three or four times a year didn’t make it possible to establish a relationship, which I believe is for the best. I no longer talk to my father and I haven’t since 8th grade. That being my choice him not being a part of my life really wasn’t that big of a difference from when he supposedly was a part of my life. That being said I believe that this all begun because of my abusive boyfriend. From the very beginning it was just verbal and emotional abuse. He always made sure that I felt less than and that I knew he was in control. Within months it turned to physical and sexual abuse. He basically raped me. Although I was his girlfriend, I didn’t want any part of it. I eventually caved because I was pretty much tired of getting beat up about it. After I realised eraser burns on my hands and arms calmed me down, i immediately escalated to cutting and serious burning. It helped. I believe now that without the defence mechanism such as self injury I would have never gotten out of the relationship alive. Besides being death afraid that he was going to kill me, without the cuts, I felt that I would eventually kill myself. And I tried. Three times to be exact. Twice when I was with him and once right after he was gone. I felt alone. Being with him meant I couldn’t have any friends, meaning I had to cut all ties with any of the friends that I had left. After he left I was completely alone. I never fully got back the friends I had then. And I blame myself. He got into my head and basically fucked me up. To this day I still flinch when someone raises a hand toward me. And if you crack a joke toward me, I’ll take it serious.

At this time I haven’t cut for seven months. I haven’t been with Bill for three years this May. And I’m on medication for chronic depression and an OCD. The OCD I believe is from being completely controlled and the expectations he has on me to be perfect. Although I haven’t cut for seven months I think about it every day. I deal with it every day, and I believe that I still suffer from it. I had to relearn everything. From feelings to how to react in certain situations. I now am dating Dave, although he didn’t know what was going on with me in 9th grade, he was a friend that I gained after my ex finally left. We dated a little while after my break up, but I was so messed and confused I couldn’t handle it. I broke it off but we remained friends.

I can say although cutting is still an issue for me, that I am better today. I can be happy. Even though without my meds I get pretty depressed, I am able to love and be loved. I allow people to get close to me and I allow myself to trust those people.

As for my eating disorder, I developed it while I was dating a different guy in 10th grade. I was still pretty torn up and I was actively self injuring. He was your typical pretty boy, dated beautiful girls that were unlike me. And I felt I had to be just like them. He would never tell me that I was fat or even that I wasn’t. I just needed to “tone up”. I started to eat less and less. I got thinner. He left me when he went to college in Florida. and by this time I realised that I can’t eat. My eating disorder was at it’s fullest. I ended up weighing a little over a hundred pounds. And please make a note that I stand 5’6”. I spoke to my therapist and after a while I was able to arrest it. Although at this moment I do have an eating disorder, I am doing fairly well. Everything that I hoped would end in my life, the hatred, the embarrassment and the abuse, has ended. I have an amazing loving boyfriend. And my mom is paying for me to get my scars taken off.

Even though self injury is what it is, I would never wish it never happened to me. It saved my life. But I would also never wish it upon anyone else.


Permanent location: