A Cutter

Copyright K

I didn’t have a bad relationship with my parents, they are still happily married, my brother is amazing. I’m still a cutter though.

I have been bullied all my life, as a little kid I was ‘adorable’ long blond curly hair and cute girly clothes. I was born with twisted upper leg bones, I walked ‘clubbed foot’ like and got pain. I was teased and people imitated me. I was teased about my looks, I was sent death threats, knife threats, hate e-mail, instant messages. It hurt. A lot.

I first cut at around the age of thirteen, I didn’t even know it was something anyone else did, I thought it was just me. I got in a lot of trouble at school over lies people told and me taking drugs as a way out. I packed in the drugs as school tried to throw me out. I defeated one habit.

I recently over the past year have had two major operations on my legs to straighten them out by using an external fixator/ilizorov frame. Look it up on Google and you’ll see what they are. Basically it broke, separated and twisted my bone and put a metal cage with pins in it and when it came off five months later I had no pain relief. I resented both my legs having gone through this purely for the benefit of other people. To this day I’ve never stopped cutting. I’ve seen shrinks, counsellors, therapists, doctors. I don’t know where else to go. I’ve attempted suicide around four or five times. I guess I’m not brave enough or strong enough to ever win the battle. I’m scared now. Scared for myself cause I know one day I will probably go too far.

All I can do is live minute by minute and hope things change, whether that be by good fortune or death.


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