Pain Is My Way Out

Copyright, Stephani

I am seventeen. I have been a cutter since I was fourteen. It all started when I crashed my older brother’s car. I was so scared of what my parents would say, so I ran outside to the rose bush and started rubbing my arm against it thinking if I am hurt they won’t care that the car is ruined. Well I was wrong, they didn’t care one bit. So from them on when I got so mad at them, I would just go off and cut myself. There are so many things that make me want to cut. The worst time was when I “thought I was in love” and the guy told me he liked me like a sister. Then about a week later he told me to fuck off and never talk to him again. Needless to say my world was crushed, I cried and cried and then started drinking, which never helps when you are a cutter. Then all of my emotions got the best of me and I ran into the forest behind out house, and ran to an old car, there was broken glass everywhere, I looked around for the sharpest pieces. Then I sat down and just started cutting, and kept going deeper and deeper each time, not caring about the pain that I would feel later or what others would think, because at that very moment of time I didn’t feel any pain, I was free from all the worries and problems in my life. I’m not proud of what I have done or do but I can’t stop. And people who don’t just don’t understand, they have nothing to worry about no problems, they don’t realize that I have a problem and I do need help. I’ve gone to get help, but I just pretend like I am OK, but really I’m not. I just smile and say I’m OK, but no one really knows what I feel inside. Sometimes I don’t know what I feel inside. I just hope I’ll find out soon.


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