Natasha Katrina


Copyright Natasha Katrina

Oftentimes I wonder when and why I started cutting. I know that I had never really heard anything about it, people purposely hurting themselves never even crossed my mind. The time, about two and a half years ago. I’m fifteen. Not that the time or age matters much. My main thing I have been pondering over is why I would start doing this. Where did I get the idea from in the first place? Was it from the one girl I knew who did this? Well, she was a ‘freak’ so why would I want to start being like her? Was it something I read? Or did I just come home one day and think ‘hmm, I should carve into my skin with a safety pin.’ (Yes, like most, I started off with safety pins.) I really don’t think I’ll ever know. One day as I was thinking about this subject, I looked through my diary because maybe I had written in it about this. But there was nothing. I mean, nothing until about nineteen months ago when this became a normal ‘routine’ almost. I think I never wrote about it because I figured I would stop. That it was just something I did on impulse and I wouldn’t become one of those ‘freaks’. I considered asking my friends or family. Then I realised that only two people in the whole world know that I do this. And both of them cut too, plus I never admitted to anything until the same time I started writing about it.

Now that’s kind of about where I got the idea to SI (self injure) rather than the topic I was on of ‘why’. Why? Why would anyone do this, especially someone like me? Was it the stress? I don’t think so. I mean, sure, more piles on over the years, but I’ve always had stress to deal with (as everyone does). Did I decide that I liked the pain? I doubt it. When I started I would barely scratch myself and think I was going to die, without even bleeding (now I tolerate almost anything). Wait, maybe that’s it. Maybe I wanted to die? Was everything so bad from my perspective that it wasn’t even worth living anymore? Was I trying to slit my wrists and commit suicide? I don’t think so, or at least I really hope I didn’t. It’s obvious to me now that I don’t want to die. When I cut it’s almost like dying temporarily. Just escaping from reality for the brief moment. Also, I highly doubt that I truly wanted to kill myself, or I would have gone through with it. You see, with me, being in the psych ward and having people talk about me and know that I tried to commit suicide would be worse than if I actually did die. The embarrassment and shame would be too much for me to handle. That is why I make sure no one will know about what I do.

Nowadays I think I know why I do it, but I don’t want to make your eyes tired listing the reasons. But the questions of ‘why’ and ‘when’ still repeat in my head every now and then, and then I ask them back ‘why?’ Why does anyone start? Where did the idea come from for them? I know that I can’t answer some of the questions that were asked to myself (for now, anyways) But I can answer a question for people who do not cut, or have just started before they start asking themselves. It’s not worth it in the end. Take it from me, just a ‘normal’ fifteen year old girl who would anything to have another way to deal with her problems. From the ‘normal’ fifteen year old girl who hates her secret addiction more than anything, yet has to find herself loving it too. If you know your reason that you are or are going to start cutting yourself, it’s not a good enough reason. Mine wasn’t (whatever it was) and no one’s is.


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