I can't stop cutting after six years of cutting.--triggering
Posted: Thu Mar 18, 2010 11:08 pm
I've been cutting for six years. I started when I was 13 years old and I'm 19 now. I've tried to stop so many times. But it's my addiction. It's like I got into it and now I'm stuck with it. It's what I turn to when I'm really depressed, which is most of the time. I've got scars everywhere. On both wrists, my legs and arms. The scars will eventually fade away as best they can, but never completely. And the scars on my heart will never fade at all. At times I feel like a failure at this too, because sometimes the cuts are never deep enough and they don't bleed enough.
I'm surprised my boyfriend is still with me. For how many times he's walked into my apartment and found me laying in the bathroom floor, blood pouring out of my wrists. It hurts him every time. I'm such a bad person for hurting him like that. He deserves better than me but he loves me, so I'm lucky to have him. Almost every time I've cut myself or threatened to, he says he'll leave me next time I do it. But he stays every time. Because he's the best person I've ever met. Sometimes I wonder how it would be the other way around. If he were the depressed cutter, and if I were happy. It would kill me to see him laying in bed with blood stained wrists. I would just want to take all the pain away from him and keep it for myself. I think he feels that way about me. He picks me up off the floor, washes my wrists under the sink and brings me to bed. We cuddle as I cry and tell him how depressed I feel, he listens and tries to comfort me the best he can.
And my parents, I disappoint them so much, every time they see the cuts.They haven't been the perfect parents and perhaps I could have been raised differently and not disciplined for my depression and anger, which they thought was a bad attitude. But they are definitely much better than most and gotten better since they found out about my severe depression. Mom tells me how she feels when she sees the cuts or scars. I wish I never made her feel that way. Dad doesn't say anything really, but I know it hurts him. I wish I never hurt him either. My sister went to school one day and got made fun of for wearing a set of cute gloves. They called her "emo" and asked why she cut her wrists. She would never cut herself, but it hurt her so bad because she knows her older sis has been cutting for years. My brother can't stand thinking about it and gets upset when I do it. He hugs me and tells me that I'll be okay.
But will I ever be okay? I feel drenched in pain all the time. Crying doesn't let it out, cause after I'm finished crying, I still feel just as depressed. No amount of words could possibly describe the intense feelings of sorrow I suffer every day. I just have to cut myself. I just have to see that crimson blood.
I'm surprised my boyfriend is still with me. For how many times he's walked into my apartment and found me laying in the bathroom floor, blood pouring out of my wrists. It hurts him every time. I'm such a bad person for hurting him like that. He deserves better than me but he loves me, so I'm lucky to have him. Almost every time I've cut myself or threatened to, he says he'll leave me next time I do it. But he stays every time. Because he's the best person I've ever met. Sometimes I wonder how it would be the other way around. If he were the depressed cutter, and if I were happy. It would kill me to see him laying in bed with blood stained wrists. I would just want to take all the pain away from him and keep it for myself. I think he feels that way about me. He picks me up off the floor, washes my wrists under the sink and brings me to bed. We cuddle as I cry and tell him how depressed I feel, he listens and tries to comfort me the best he can.
And my parents, I disappoint them so much, every time they see the cuts.They haven't been the perfect parents and perhaps I could have been raised differently and not disciplined for my depression and anger, which they thought was a bad attitude. But they are definitely much better than most and gotten better since they found out about my severe depression. Mom tells me how she feels when she sees the cuts or scars. I wish I never made her feel that way. Dad doesn't say anything really, but I know it hurts him. I wish I never hurt him either. My sister went to school one day and got made fun of for wearing a set of cute gloves. They called her "emo" and asked why she cut her wrists. She would never cut herself, but it hurt her so bad because she knows her older sis has been cutting for years. My brother can't stand thinking about it and gets upset when I do it. He hugs me and tells me that I'll be okay.
But will I ever be okay? I feel drenched in pain all the time. Crying doesn't let it out, cause after I'm finished crying, I still feel just as depressed. No amount of words could possibly describe the intense feelings of sorrow I suffer every day. I just have to cut myself. I just have to see that crimson blood.