It Began

Copyright, Mandee

I am fifteen now. I started self mutilating when I was fourteen. I have a friend named Monica and she has some problems. She started cutting herself after watching the movie 13. She tried to kill herself once and ended up in BHC, a mental hospital. I was sexually abused by an ex-boyfriend, the guy I lost my virginity to ditched me and I had just been so depressed for a long time. Also my mom was in the hospital for a long time. She almost died. This was when my self mutilation started. Monica told me that cutting helped her so I started thinking about it. At first I would push a sharpened pencil into my wrist, that stopped working very quickly. So one day I was feeling very depressed and crying for no reason I went to the tool box and got a straight razor and started cutting. Seven times, not bad they were just like scratches. It helped. As time passed I had began dating Mika, he has some serious problems too. I found my life spiraling down into a black hole. It started getting worse. I cut myself all over my left arm about twelve times and they weren’t too bad. Then finally they got bad. Very bad. the worst cutting episode I ever had was when I was fifteen and it was in July. I was having very bad anxiety, so I went outside and said I was going for a walk. I lay on the sidewalk on the right side of my apartment complex and that’s when I started cutting. I cut myself thirty times which were all very deep. My entire arm was covered in blood and the sidewalk with three big puddles of blood. I lay there for at least an hour crying and admiring the blood — I loved the blood — then Mika came found me and my mom wanted to take me to the hospital (I probably should have gone) but I wouldn’t let her because I didn’t want to end up in a mental hospital. I wrapped a hand towel around my arm when I went to bed and when I woke up it was all red and was followed by a big blood stain on my sheet. My arm bled for twenty-four hours non stop. Since then I have cut badly for a long time. I was seeing a counselor and then I started getting better with the cutting. I didn’t cut for three weeks but then I cut again. I moved to a place called Priest River and I have only cut seven times since I have lived here. Since then I have met a girl named Michelle who cuts. They aren’t bad yet, but I told her that it will get worse and she can talk to me anytime. I hope anyone who wants to talk will e-mail me. I have ninety scars now…


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