Shannon
Untitled
Copyright Shannon
I’m going to tell you my story. Well, cutting never used to be a option for me. A girl at our school did it and I thought that there was really no point of doing it. But then I realised one night when I couldn’t take everything that people say to me and being compared to everyone else, and trying to live up to other people’s standards. It gets to you after a while. And you don’t notice it until something triggers it. I don’t really know what it was for me. Just at that moment it seemed like I needed it so bad, and after it I felt complete and thought maybe I do need it. It was like a high for me. And if I was ever mad or sad or things weren’t going as I thought they should I would turn to it as a comfort. Seeing the blood and feeling the pain it was nice for a while, but now I realise from the help of my friends that cutting isn’t a replacement for fixing the problem and it later wouldn’t help me out or do anything for me. I haven’t cut myself in a while. I now know I don’t need the pain. I wish I realised that earlier, but now I have to live with the scars and the questions of why I did it and it just gets old trying to explain myself to other people. I hate being judged. They see the scars and then classify me as a cutter, well I know I’m not anymore and I’m over that. I wish I could take back what I did but I did do it and now I will live with it.
Untitled
Copyright, Shannon
I’m 17 and started cutting when I was 14. I had an older boyfriend who was 16 and dealt with a lot of depression. I didn’t realise it but it started to rub off on me. His anger, his sadness, his negativity. All he talked about was how much he wanted to die. He cut his wrist one night and I saw it the next day… It became a routine we would cut together. He died the summer of 2001… of suicide. Little did I realise how much influence he put on me. I stopped cutting for a while then I hit senior year of high school and it all went down the hole. Whenever I was sad or angry I would cut and I would feel so relieved. It was the best feeling ever. I would start cutting at school then, over stress. My parents found and I was put in the psych ward (which was no help) I think it was just a place to keep me under lock and key for a while. my parents don’t understand why I do this. They yell at me if they see I cut myself. I go to counselling two times a week and take meds, but nothing seems to help. I feel no different. I thrive in seeing blood drip out of my arm… why? It’s obsessive, I started cutting my legs too. Why can’t you stop? I’m willing to talk to anyone… I have been through it all. E-mail me at shanni716@aol.com.
Untitled
Copyright, Shannon
I’m fifteen, and I’ve been cutting for the last year and a half. I really like this site. I read some of these comments and it just helps knowing someone out there understands exactly how I feel. I live in a small town where cutting is spreading more and more, and yet it is unspoken. I live in a town where cutting seems to be such a terrible sin, doesn’t exactly help the issue. I cut my legs and my left arm, sometimes I cut my stomach or chest, but only to hide it. I do sports, and I like to wear shorts and t-shirts, and it is hard to walk around sometimes with scars, or fresh cuts. The looks I get could kill, or I get the whispers or the ignorant people who just say, “oh, she cuts herself”. This past year I’ve grown distant to some of the people I was close to. They could not understand me and what I do. I don’t think people even want to understand cutting. People can be ignorant, and it’s hard to find that out. I just wish people could handle me better. They just say yell at me about my cutting. The irony of it is the most people who yell at me are the ones who get drunk, puke, every weekend. Maybe it’s just me, but drinking your problems away seems just as bad as cutting if not worse. People around me, just make me feel so horrible. I already feel these lows and this lack of self worth. And people just make it worse, then I end up cutting myself. And I walk into the public and the cycle is started all over again. Why can’t people just understand me? Why do I have to feel so low, and why do have to be the “freak” people make me out to be. Thanks for listening, and letting me share, I hope this helps someone, and I just wish everyone luck.
Untitled
Copyright, Shannon
I’m 14 and I have been doing SI since I was 9. It started out with head banging and hair pulling, and sometimes burning. Then about one year and 8 months ago I started cutting. The first time I did it was when I was arguing with a teacher of mine, and she was telling me why she told the people in my class, and my boyfriend, why they should stay away from me… and how I was such a bad person, etc. And I started taking my nails, and grating them into my skin, and just cutting myself, I did it 27 times, but now when I cut, 5 cuts aren’t enough anymore. I cut anywhere from 50-100 times each time, and I can’t go for one week without doing it. I’ve been hospitalised once for an attempted suicide and self injury, it didn’t help me. It was a “quick fix”. After that I was supposed to be on medication, and seeing a therapist, but that only lasted two weeks, then my “doctor” took me off my meds, and I stopped seeing my therapist. I am so addicted, that once I start I can’t stop, and sometimes I do it more than once a day.
Untitled
Copyright, Shannon
I am 17, and have been doing self-injury for three and a half years. I have been in two psychiatric hospitals. It was because, not only my self-injury, but depression and very suicidal. Stuff like attempts and shit. But, ah, anyways, I can’t stop. I enjoy it too much. It does a lot for me too. It makes me know I am still alive. It’s because, a lot of the time, I don’t feel emotions, so it’s like I am living in a dream world. It’s odd. But, ah, yeah. I am in a DBT group. I am not going to let it help. I really don’t want to be there, but am forced. I had to drop my good psychologist because of this program, she wasn’t trained in DBT therapy, so that was reason enough for them to make me drop her. I don’t intend on stopping soon. But, am willing to talk with anyone.