WARNING:

If you are a cutter, please be sure you are in a SAFE place when looking at this site. Even though you may be okay now, it may give you the desire to cut.
I know just writing it made me want to.

I'M BACK!

Many of you may remember me from my old website www.angelfire.com/ks/Cutters/index.html but I'm trying to move that over here.

Yes, that website (pre-blog) left off pretty dismally, but I'm still alive and kicking 5 years later! (With many trials & tribulations in between. I hope we'll all be able to catch up here!

Thanks for all your support of the years, it has been absolutely invaluable.

Sunday, August 25, 2002

August 25, 2002

They walk away.
They always walk away.
I don't care how much they promise upfront...how they swear they are going to teach you how people don't walk away, but they do.

I guess there is only so much of me you can take.

I am annoying, I am depressing, I am sad, I am a downer.

I am scared, I am alone, I am lonely, I am awful.

I make people feel bad, just being around me.

And all I really want, is to not be this person, only I don't know how.

I am not doing well. I am not well at all. I saw the doctor just over a month ago. He prescribed me effexor. It ISN'T working. I've never felt worse. I'm still always depressed, and very suicidal.

I see him again in 2 days, I hope he just gives me what works. Prozac and Lithium did wonders...but he wanted to try something new.

I've also started with a new therapist. She seemed nice, but because of $$$$, I'll only see her about once a month. She told me to think about what I wanted to work on, for our next visit. She asked me to think about whether I was there to stop cutting, or to work on other issues.

My first reaction was 'Stop Cutting! Are you crazy?!' I didn't relay this reaction out loud. And it was in the shower this morning (3 weeks later) I realized...I can't imagine stopping.

It's not because I don't want to...it's because I just feel so SHITTY on a daily basis, that I can't imagine living without it. And maybe if I didn't feel shitty...it wouldn't be an issue. In fact, I'm sure if I didn't need it to make me feel better, it wouldn't be an issue. What I really need, is to work on the shittyness.

You always say "I've never felt worse than I do now." And the funny thing is...that you always do. It always gets worse. You hear "there's no where to go but up." Only that's not always true.

I just had someone try and convince me that “Today is the first day of the rest of my life.” Which all in all, I’m sure is a good point of motivation for some. But for me...I rolled my eyes...and tried to smile and say “you know, you’re right,” just out of politness.

I can say I've never been more suicidal than I am right now...but if you look back about a year, I was saying the same thing.

All I know, is that I'm close to not being able to function, and the very last person I had standing by me, has just told me "it's to stressfull to be in any relationship with you, whether it's friendship - or more." ...and “I’m finally stable...and in control, and when you’re down, I can’t stand it...it brings me down, which is not where I need to be.”

We were best friends, and then lovers....we were dating up until about 4 days ago...but still friends. I’ve never needed anyone more in my life right now...but he’s gone...I expected it. And I’m trying to acept it.

So now it's just me.

I mean, it's always been - just me - I don't let anyone in. It's how I stay strong.

Unfortunatly, it's what makes people walk away. I don't blame them...there's only so long you can work at a person...loving them, pleading with them to open up...only to have it thrown in your face.

I am a horrible human being.

I really am.

And all I think about is how the metal will feel against my temple...and whether or not my ear drums will pop. After all, a gun shot right next to your ear has got to be loud. But hopefully death will come too quickly, and there won’t be much pain.

I also have to wonder if your life really flashes before your eyes, in that split second before you die. And what happens after...I’m hoping nothing...there is nothing. I need there to be just nothing...no heaven, no hell, just boom....done.

I want there to be nothing....

I’m tired.

I am very tired.

I have a gun picked out...= ) Just not purchased just yet...but I have a license...I’m just 72 hours away...If I go tomorrow...I could be gone by thursday. I think for the first time in my life...I’ve ALMOST made my decision.

I tried to get help...it didn’t work.

I’m still sad, and now I’m tired of being sad.

I’ve moved from cutting to burning. It’s a lot less messy, the scars heal better...though they still take forever! And it hurts a lot more. It’s also easier...I don’t have to worry about sanitizing razors, or cleaning cuts....I just plug in my curling iron. I let it heat up for at least 20 minutes...so it’s burning hot. Then I tap it against my skin a couple of times. It’s not bad...at least the first couple of times I did it, it wasn’t bad. But last Wednesday, I may have tapped it too many times...it was fine that day, and the next...didn’t hurt...just looked burned...and bubbled...but then my skin just slid off.....it was really gross. The burn hadn’t healed...it wasn’t like a bad sunburn - where the skin peals off....it was still healing...and pink and raw - with clear liquid goo...and the skin litteraly it just slid off. It was the grossest feeling ever. Luckily it wasn’t a big burn...so I have it bandaged with neosporene on it.

But point blank...I’m not well. I don’t know what else to say. God Forbidd I depress anyone else...I’m sure I have though...but I’m sorry, it was not my intention. Afterall, I’ve already done that. Anyways...in the end I’m sure I’ll be fine...I always am...right?

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My Story

How will you know I'm hurting
If you cannot see my pain?
To wear it on my body
Tells what words cannot explain.
--C. Blount


I cut myself.

And to me, that seems normal. It's how I deal with life.

The first time I cut myself I was a Junior in High School. At the time, I had never heard of self-mutilation. I didn't know that it was something that 1% of the population actually does! I had never met anyone who did this. I used to think "how could someone even do that to themselves!"

Until I tried it.

I was on the phone with my best friend. She started talking about how sometimes she would scratch herself with a needle or razor. I think I said something like "How can you do that? Doesn't it hurt?" (Little did I know, soon I would be answering the same questions from other people.)

And I tried it.

I had a razor sitting on my desk and I lightly scratched my arm. There was no blood. I did it a few more times. And what happened amazed me. My heart started pounding, and I felt alive. Suddenly I was in control, and everything in my head seemed to clear. It was a high that I had never felt before.

Suddenly my life seemed managable. I could control the pain, and I knew no one could hurt me any more than I could hurt myself. I was a little proud of the fact that I could be this strong! This made me feel better than I had felt in a long time.

And that's where it started....

So I started cutting regularly. It started with a few fresh cuts ever week or so. Then I was doing it 2-3 times a week - once a day - and at the very worst times 4 - 5 times a day.

I stoped eating lunch in the cafeteria, and started locking myself in the bathroom so I could cut while I ate. A few times the blood seeped through to my jeans, and if anyone asked, I always told them that I spilled ketchup, or chocolate on myself at lunch. I used to cut my arms in 3's. This way if anyone asked about them I could say a cat scratched me. I would wear sweaters in the summer, and I would never, ever, EVER put on a bathing suit. (I still can't today because of the scars)

Where did I cut? Anything that could be hidden by my high school gym uniform. (At this time I had already started changing in the bathroom stalls so no one would see my cuts) I cut my shoulders, upper arms, stomach, thighs, and ankles. Once I cut my wrists, but this wasn't a suicide attempt. I'm not sure what it was. I read somewhere that "Suicide is the exact opposite of self- mutilation. People who commit suicide want to die. People who self-mutilate just want to feel better."

When I started cutting more frequently, I started cutting more deeply. Some of cuts would bleed for up to 3 days non-stop. I started to scare myself. My closest friends started to get scared. And then my parents FREAKED. They started to accuse me of being on drugs, being crazy...actually they didn't know what to think. This all landed me in a doctor's office with 3 prescriptions and therapy sessions three times a week.

But this didn't change my behavior. I didn't want to change. Eventually I landed myself in a Mental Hospital for 2 weeks. And I still wasn't ready to change. I learned all of the alternatives, I was taking medication for my depression, and seeing doctors. But none of it did me any good. You can't help someone feel better who doesn't want to.

So eventually my parents got frustrated, and all of this was so expensive that they just said "forget it." In a way that made me feel like I really was a lost cause. Like there was NO hope.

But there is - I think.

I have hundreds of scars on my body...especially on my upper thighs. But, they are fading. I haven't cut that badly for some time. Sometimes the fact that they are going away scares me...I don't want to lose my scars. They kind of symbolize what I've gone through with this thing. I call them my battle scars.

I don't let myself buy disposable razors anymore, because they are too easy for me to take apart. But when I get desparate enough - really anything can be used as a weapon. I've scratched myself with my finger nails, push pins, safety pins, snapped rubber bands around my wrists hard enough to leave bruises for up to a week, and I've even burned myself before. But I remain, primarily a cutter.

And sometimes I think maybe I'll always just be a cutter. Maybe I don't want help. I don't know how to stop this. I don't know how to make this better. I mean it's just me. You think that I could just say I'm not going to cut anymore. But it's much harder than that. You have to want to stop. And even though I know that I should, that doesn't mean I want to.

So how do you make yourself stop something you love doing??? Right now I don't have an answer to that...I'm hoping that someday in the future I do. This isn't easy. In fact stoping is probably the hardest thing I've ever done.

But the fight continues.

I'm trying.

I can do this.