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Delia

I am not Ashamed

Copyright Delia

I’m fifteen years old. I started cutting when I was thirteen and then developed a brief eating disorder to go right along with it. But cutting is the thing that stayed with me even after I recovered from my eating disorder on my own. I didn’t know for the longest time why I had started cutting and truthfully, I still don’t know exactly why I started cutting. I could list off a bunch of reasons but I don’t think that would solve the problem. I cut to deal with things. I never cut because I wanted to die. There were times when I did feel like I couldn’t stand life any longer but I was always careful not to cut too deep because I knew, deep down, I wanted to live. If not for anything else than to just grow up and tell everyone who ever screwed me over to fuck off. When I kept that idea in my mind, I always made it through to the next day.

The last time I cut was just over a month ago. Right now I’m not cutting and I don’t think I will cut anytime in the near future. I can’t say that I won’t ever cut again because I don’t truthfully know. Most of the people who know that I cut say that it is bad. Yeah, it is kinda bad for your body but, as long as you don’t cut too deep, it just turns into a scar. There are better ways to sort out your pain but nobody should be shunned because they cut. I was painfully rejected by one of my teachers who found out and who should have been able to deal with it better. My dad yelled at me and threatened to send me to a mental hospital until I was eighteen. And the rest of my family doesn’t know. I’ve had some hard trials in my life and I haven’t always had a friend to help me but for the times I did, I can only thank God.

My life isn’t perfect. It seems like I have new hurdles to get past every time I look. And who knows, maybe I’ll start cutting again. But I’m not ashamed of my scars. I’m proud of all of them because they tell people I lived. They tell people that I went through some terrors and survived a stronger person. They tell people that even when I was afraid of the world and wanted to give up, I found the courage to keep going. And even as my scars fade, there won’t be a day that goes by where I won’t at least glance at them and remember that I am not a weak person.

 

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