I didn’t learn about the scars until
later. How long or short they
I still vividly remember the stories
behind most of the scars I have/had.
have scars from my first few times
of experimenting with cutting
SEVERAL years ago. I could look
at each one and remember where I
was, what I was feeling, what I
used, and how I felt after.
Some were longer than others… I
usually felt angry when that
happened. Some were more frequent
instead of just one or two together…
those were when I felt numb. There
were times when I would even scratch
myself until I bled. Until I could
feel it. And yes, those scratches
left scars that I can still see.
would look at some marks and
remember that I placed them where I
knew certain people might see. I
looked at others and remembered
feeling so frustrated and so alone
but not wanting anyone to see I
cut. So, I hid them to where I
would only know.
were marks I made out of anger
because a friend of mine demeaned
how I felt and insulted me in the
career I was in. I cut myself in
hopes that she might see for herself
how she made me feel and how I
really felt, since she wasn’t able
to fully understand my words.
marks I would see and remember that
I didn’t really have a reason for
making those. I was sitting on my
couch and the thought of doing it
consumed my mind SO MUCH that I just
wanted not to think about it
anymore. So, after several hours of
trying to distract myself with
things, I gave in and just did it.
marks were made out of frustration.
In feared that I was not going to be
able to get control of my life and
be happy like everyone else.
notice yet even more marks that I
remember doing after an argument
with a friend. I was hurt yet I was
in the wrong and I knew it. I
needed to be punished.
wanted to punish myself to a point
that I would never forget this. I
would learn from my mistakes and not
cause problems with friends that
didn’t do anything wrong.
another few marks still remain from
the times of going out and waking up
in the morning with regret. So much
regret and so much shame that it
numbed me over.
several days of feeling numb, the
only thing to snap me out of it, was
cutting, to un-numb myself from
those shameful nights, left marks
that CONTINUE to remind me of the
events of those nights.
have a scar from the time I was told
by a “friend” that I was too
depressed to hang around.
I was unwanted.
Every mark I see on my body, has a
One thing I didn’t like with the
scarring… was when I was out of the
bad moment/day/week… when I was
ready to move on with my life… I
Because I was reminded EVERY time I
saw the scars.
Without me realizing it, cutting had
become an addiction for me. I did
it when I was overwhelmed, numb,
lonely, angry, bored, ashamed,
frustrated, regretful, stressed,
needing punishment, wanting
attention… almost anything made me
think I needed to cut.
I thought about it TOO much.
One thing that started to encourage
me to stop, was a friend. I found a
friend that I could talk to, a
friend that would listen, a friend
that encouraged me.
But when trials came again… which
they always did… I wanted to run
back to cutting.
I didn’t want to deal with anything
When that ONE friend could not be
around… I didn’t know what else to
do. I depended too much on a
human to help. But, I didn’t
know any other way.
When I came to the conclusion that I
needed to get rid of these chains of
I found a replacement.
A good replacement?
Of course not…
But a replacement nonetheless.
I found alcohol.
I couldn’t make it through the day
without doing some kind of harm to
When money started to get tight… I
couldn’t afford the alcohol.
And I found another way to run
Pills I had already had, or pills I
would take from others.
I accidentally burned myself one
time… and it gave more RELIEF to me
What is wrong with me?!
I just needed some kind of buzz to
get me through the day. When I
didn’t have any kind of help… my
thoughts and imagination would run.
I would think about wanting to die
all the time, I would think about
what a horrible person I was, I
would think about how frustrated I
am that I live my life in fear. I
would relive horrible memories in my
past and walk around in shame ALL
I couldn’t stand myself or my life…
Unless, I had a little help.
It was always something I could
count on. Friends are so wishy
washy. They can only be there
for you if they have time, and most
don’t want to be around people that
are emo or depressed. I didn’t
want to WORRY some of them that
honestly wanted to help… so I ran to
something I knew would help.
I DID NOT HAVE HOPE.
I did not see myself ever becoming
worth anything. I did not see
myself ever becoming OKAY.
I felt I was a burden on everyone in
It was to a point where I had to
start taking something in the early
afternoon, and then at noon, and
then when I woke up. I started
to have to take more after a while
because I couldn’t feel just one
pill, or one shot, or cut anymore.
When does it end?
My relationships are extremely short
and what VERY few I do or did have
were roller coaster rides. Of
course they were my fault. If
I see a trend in my life, it's not
that coincidental… there has to be a
And it was me.
I knew it was me.
So, I built walls, got heavier into
my addictions, and tried to stay
away from close friendships. I
desperately wanted a best friend,
but I was tired of losing people in
my life because they couldn’t handle
my ways. So, I had friends
that never knew much about me.
I stayed at a distance.
People that got ANGRY at me for
doing what I did… just made me want
to do it even more. I couldn’t
handle it. People that got
UPSET at me for doing what I did…
just made me want to do it even
more. People that didn’t care…
made me want to do it even more.
I felt so lonely.
I felt so rejected by everyone.
I felt so unwanted.
I felt so unloved.
My life came to a point where I knew
something had to change. I
don’t mean like the other times
before…. Where I knew I SHOULD
change but knew it was never going
to happen. My addictions were
taking over my life. I wasn’t
happy unless I had some kind of
chemical in me or mark on my body.
I lost control of it.