Copyright, Richelle

I have been cutting since I was twelve. I’m turning sixteen in two weeks time. I find cutting a way to punish myself and to get away. Cutting is the only way I find to get a way from life. I cut when things around me get too much or I just feel really down. It feels like cutting relishing all the pain inside me. I used to cut myself in font of the mirror. It felt like I was watching, not doing it. Nowadays I do it in the bath or in my bedroom. When I try to stop the craving, I write what I was thinking about or feelings, which made myself want to cut. It gets things out. Some days I just want to cut to punish myself for how I look or the things I have done. When I want to fight the cravings, I take an elastic band and pick myself, or draw on myself. But sometimes this method doesn’t work for me. This is when I give up and cut.

Going back a year ago it was getting out of hand. I was slowly getting deeper. I had done things that I really regretted, and my dad walked back into my life after fourteen years and caused many fights.

I became a loner and I bottled up. I couldn’t understand why I cut. I felt like I was a freak or insane that the only way I could get through the day was to cut. I started to get really insecure. I started to loose weight. I thought guys would like me if I were skinny. I totally lost the Richelle that was happy and could talk to people. It got too much, my writing in my dairy wasn’t helping. I wanted to run away. But how could I run from myself? I only want to be pretty and be loved.

My mum tried to help by setting up rewards if I could stop cutting. I just couldn’t do it. She would get angry that I couldn’t stop cutting. I know now that she was only trying to help. But at the time it made me feel worse.

I hate myself more that I can’t stop. I was and still I’m hurting the people around me. It makes me hate myself more. I was going mad for the blade or razor back then. I think that was the worst point in my life. I was freaking myself out, how much I needed the blade. I really did need the blade every day back then. It started to make me feel worse. I would feel guilty and insane. I became so depressed. I pushed the people I loved away from myself and replaced the knife for them. It was getting out of hand but I didn’t know any way out of it. On the 2nd of June this year I tried to end my life, I was put into hospital. I tried by cutting my wrists open. After this I got help.

Cutting isn’t the same as it starts off as. It just makes me feel insane and even more down. After I put myself into hospital, I have been scared to cut too deep. I rarely feel better after cutting. I do get cravings for the knife and I give in sometimes, but I feel worse than when I started, but there are days when I have to cut. It doesn’t help me get away from myself, just reminds me of what I have become, because cutting is the problem now. It’s lost its unnamed feeling with me. I do still feel I need to punish myself though.

Maybe some day I will be able to not need a knife. I’m very insecure about my looks and weight, but I feel a lot better since June, maybe because I have started to notice what the problems are and facing them. I think that maybe June was just a cry for help. I did get help, but the must help has come from my family, friends and boyfriend. They are always trying to get me to love myself. And I feel now days that maybe I could love myself and not need the knife to punish myself.


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