Copyright, Roni

I have been self mutilating since the age of twelve. I am still an active cutter at the age of eighteen. All my life I have felt empty and lonely. I isolate myself as much as possible and sleep all the time or at least when I’m not strung out on the pills that everyone feeds me. This cutting addiction started long before any drugs, street or otherwise, entered my body. I have clinical depression as well as a bipolar disorder, paranoia and delusions that result from my schizo-effective disorder, and I have auditory hallucinations. Nothing helps. I’ve been in several different psychiatric hospitals the past six years of my life and been prescribed so many pills I can’t remember all the names. Through the years the cuts have gotten deeper and more frequent. They spread from my left arm to my legs and thighs and my right arm. I have too many scars to count that will never go away. I spend the majority of my time in my closet cutting myself and crying. All day I have obsessive thoughts about cutting and killing myself. I fantasize about killing myself and ridding the world of my pointless existence. No one will ever understand my view of the world. I have no feelings. I feel nothing except the cold edge of the razor or x-acto or whatever I’m using to cut myself. I cannot promise my loved ones I won’t do it again because I am no longer in control. I do not live anymore. I stay alive to mutilate my body and show this world full of shallow ignorant people how much I hate myself. This article is to anyone who never felt loved. If there are any bisexual/ lesbian girls over the age of 17 that feel unloved and wish they had someone in their life to give them a reason to live, please e-mail me. I live in Washington state and if you’re out there and want to be loved, love me and I will give you all my love in return. Please. This may be my only hope.


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