Heres My Story.

H i all my name is Ashley,


Im new to this group so I thought I would start off by telling my story.

I began cutting around the age of 13 and this addiction has found its way though my life up until 9 months ago. When I was 13 I found my self trying to find a boyfriend and be popular and pretty. And most of those things were'nt working. I was always made fun of, I got my food spat in. The boys didnt like me, and everyone thought I was weird because I was so shy, and still am to this day. I started dating this guy named Michael who told me he was 15 but towards the end of the relationship I found out he was 23. So we were dating and it started off pretty normal, I had a few friends, not the best friends but to me they were friends none the less. I was your typical girl mom and dad were happily married and had been for 15 years. The only exception was that I lived in a trailor park that wasent exactly filled with "nice" people. As a few weeks went on I found myself sitting by the phone all night expecting a call from michael. And when I didnt recieve that phone call it was always my fault because I felt like I had done something wrong. So it all began with just a little scrape here and there and that turned into small cuts, and I usually just used a thumb tac or something. I ended up breaking down one night and showing my mom, because I felt like I had lost their trust and I had to let them know. My parents knew nothing about michael or my so called friends. After a few months of "dating" I learned that michael was sleeping with one of my "best friends" I always knew she was not someone I could trust or tell anything to, but she was the popular one at the trailor park, and she was also the **** of the trailor park. But when we hung out I felt included for once, and I felt accepted. After the insident with michael I ended up breaking up with him. A few days later I noticed my "best friend" and a couple of her friends always following me and saying stuff about me while I was walking to school. Of course this lead me to serious cutting and self abuse, because once again I wasent accepted, and I wasent liked. It eventually happened one day my so called best friend and a couple of her friends came into my yard and started throwing things at my house and yelling for me to come out. So me being 13 I thought I was bad and I could handle anything. Anyway a little **** talking lead to the cops being called. Fortunantly no one was charged with domestic violence or trespassing. My mom and dad eventually found out about the michael insident and the whole thing with my "friends" I then got to the point where I was so numb from the pain that I didnt care anymore. I didnt care that my parents begun to think I was becoming someone I wasent, I didnt care what the people in the trailor park thought about me, and I didnt care about dying or living. I always told myself you have to die sometime why not tonight. Cutting lead to more cutting, and deeper cutting to the point where I couldnt feel it. I would wake up with cuts on me, and wouldnt know what they were from. that was because I got to the point where I couldnt feel the cutting, the only reason I did it was to see the blood, I had to make sure I was still alive. Because inside I didnt fell alive, I felt like no one cared, and I felt like a stranger in my own house. One night I was bleeding so bad that I had to wrap an ace bandage around my wirst, and the next morning I woke up and my hand was literally the size of a squash. So me being my 13 year old self immediatly paniced and ran to my mom saying whats wrong with my hand I think its going to fall off. She then tried to raise my sleeve and saw what was going on. I have never seen my mom cry so much or tell me how much she loved me, and she told me I had to stay alive for her, because If i didnt she wouldnt be able to live. I knew that day that I had to change my actions and go back to the person I once was. I live today as a recovering cutter, and I have had several slip ups. I have never let it go to the point it was, but it is a very hard struggle everyday. My life has been turned around and I have become the person I want to be. I am still a very angry and hurt person sometimes. And occasionally I blame god for that time in my life, I felt like he wasent there and he wasent helping me when he was suppose to. I have the scars on both my wrists, my thighs, my hips and even my chest. I see people stare at my scars everyday, and I can tell what their saying. This does bother me at times, but I know that they have no idea what ive been through and their only looking at what they can see, and judging me for it. The scars I have are a reminder to me everyday of what I was, and how I am so lucky to be where I am today. I wouldnt take back that part of my life for anything in this world, because I know that if I had not of gone through that time i wouldnt be who I am today. I thank god and my mom everday for saving my life, and loving me for me and not for what ive done.

I hope my story has inspired someone, or at least given them some hope.


MarriedtoMarine MarriedtoMarine
18-21, F
Mar 1, 2009