Psyke.org

Jordan

It’s me from five months ago till now

Copyright, Jordan

My name is Jordan but everyone calls me by my middle name Danielle. I am sixteen years old now and have been SI’ing since I was twelve years old. Just this past February my parents finally found out. They had threatened to put me in a mental institution if I didn’t quit. So I stopped cutting on my arms and started cutting on my thighs. The school decided they were going to step in. For me to go to school I was required to take a self help group. It was every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I never realised how many SI’ers we have at school till I went to that group. I hated it even more. I was cutting more and more. The group just seem to put more stress on me. We had to hide it from our teachers. We were told to tell our teachers that we were going to an extra class so we could get credits to go to our next grade. But one of my teachers looked up my grades and said that if I didn’t tell the truth then I couldn’t go. I didn’t go that day. That day I went home and cut even more. The only thing I could think of is how could this teacher be trying to get into my business. Well the principal talked to her. I had no problems after that. But then we had a psychiatrist start coming to school. She would take me out of one class everyday. It became really hard to keep my grades up. The psychiatrist started making me feel worse. I would begin to cry and shake. The last time I saw that I had cut was when I had gone home and was shaking and crying on my bed. I burned my arm with a lighter. Then I started slicing at my arm. I just kept cutting. I didn’t want to stop. Well it was bleed all over my bed so I lay on the floor. My cousin came home and heard me crying so she walked in my room and then ran out. She came running in with a towel and picked me up. She wrapped my arm in the towel. In seconds the towel was soaked in blood. So she ran out again and came back in with a few towels. She kept my arm wrapped up. As I cried in her arms. It was a rough time there. I just kept shaking and shaking. She started crying asking what was wrong. I couldn’t speak. I just kept crying. She held me and kept saying it was all gonna be OK. After about an hour I started to calm down. I just wanted to sleep. But she wouldn’t let me. She picked me up and lay me in my bed. She left then came back with a wet wash cloth. She wiped up my arm. Then she wrapped a clean towel over my wounds on my right arm. Then she told me that if she ever saw me do this again then she was going to drive me to a mental institution.

That was the last time I cut myself. Up until recently. When all the stress of school and home started building up again. My mother has recently begun to hit my younger sister and I. She hits my dad too. I can’t keep up in school. It is just getting too hard to keep up with everything. My friends are constantly fighting and dragging me in the middle. I’m stressing out and blowing up in their faces and then crying because I can’t handle the stress. I have been getting more and more anxiety attacks lately. So I have now started cutting on my right thigh, ankle and anywhere I can cut to relieve this stress.

My boyfriend says he is getting worried about me. He says I am not being myself anymore. He says he thinks there is something wrong. But I tell him I’m OK. I don’t plan on telling him for a while. I think everyone may be figuring it out because I won’t let anyone touch me. I feel as if everyone seems to be using me to see me get upset. I just get quiet now and everyone says it scares them. One of my friends just recently says it feels like I don’t exist anymore. I am becoming a loner. They say it’s not me. I used to be a social butterfly. But that is not what I am anymore. I guess this has changed my whole life.

Untitled

Copyright, Jordan

I started cutting in 5th grade and am now in 7th grade. I still cut and cut more often and more deep than before. I’ve read about it and seen movies about it. I have slit my wrist and now just cut them. I cut my legs, arms, thighs, and wrist. I have over three hundred scars. I am currently trying to stop. I started because my dad didn’t want me. He touched me and watched me in the shower. I told on him and he said I was a mistake and I should never have been born. He said he hated me and I loved him. It hurt me really bad. My mom was on drugs and was a prostitute. She’s doing way better now. My dad still hates me. I want to stop because of my boyfriend. I love him and he loves me and wants me to stop. I’m not telling any cutters this to get them to stop because it’s hard. It’s an addiction. It’s a disease of the mind. I am trying to just let people know they are not alone. Stop if you want, don’t if you don’t, it’s all up to you. If you want help you can get it. I am getting some, it’s not helping but I want to stop bad enough for my love that I know I will one day soon stop for good. You guys are all here for a reason, hurt yourself if you wish, just don’t kill yourself.

 

Permanent location: http://www.psyke.org/personal/j/jordan