When it Started

Copyright Lily

The first time I ever cut myself I was thirteen, and I didn’t do it to relieve any stress or anything like that, I did it to see what it felt like. A sharp blade split right across my left wrist. I was at a friends house, and she dared me to try it. It didn’t feel good, it stung alot and I got blood all over the floor. Not to long after that I started dating his guy. In the beginning of the relationship was great, like they always are. He started to get very obsessive, trying to control me, wanting to know everything that I was doing all the time. I started to pull away from my parents, and I didn’t believe in any of things that I had believed in before. I changed my entire life and I was thirteen years old. Three months after we had our one year, he cheated on me, and continueously lied about it. This was the first time I cut myself to try to get away from everything. I ran a razor up my arm starting from my eblow, from about six inches away from my wrist. I bled a ton, I got blood all over my jeans, and the bathroom floor. I wore sweatshirts for the three weeks that it took to heal. Everyone thought I was crazy for wearing sweatshirts in the middle of May. I choose to deny everything, act like it never exsisted. When I was in 9th grade, everything got shooken up again. That’s when I started cutting alot. I cut myself deep enough where I wouldn’t scar, but I would bleed. Me and my boyfriend broke up because of a few drunken reasons, and I started dating a new guy not to long after that. I fell head-over-heels in love with him, and he broke my heart after one month. Although we didn’t loose all contanct. It still tore me up inside. Since it was still pretty warm when we broke up, I didn’t want to cut on my wrist and have everyone see and comment on it. I cut on my shoulders. I have six scars on my left shoulder about three inches long. In October I engraved a heart onto the top of my wrist. I was going to put JM inside of it, as a memory of what I lost. I decided not to, knowing sooner or later I will be over him. I’m not yet, but that isn’t completely my fault. I currently have two cuts on my left wrist, from being so upset with my dad. Since it’s winter, it’s easy to hide, but I’m still cautious on keeping my seleves down. I don’t know if I’m ashamed of what I’ve done, or I just don’t want any one thinking I’m a problem. I don’t really know if it helps me get through things either. I know that I like seeing myself bleed, but I hate the way the cuts feel the next day. I’ve cut myself in schools once, on a sharp piece of metal on the bottom a desk. I had a hard day, in which I spent most of it crying in the nurses office. My parents don’t know that I do this, but my brother does. He doesn’t say anything, I don’t think that he understands, but I think he realises that I’ve been hurting. The one person that I’ve needed to help me through everything, my best friend hasnt been there, but she still expects me to help her. I dont want to, but I know what it feels like to be all alone.


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