I Regret It...

Sorry about this being so long... but if you're interested, then, well, I guess... enjoy?

When I was 12-15, I used to cut my wrists. I used to write down every time I did it, but eventually, I started doing it so much, that I lost count, and it only began feeling tedious to count every time I had done it.

The first time I did it, it was a little line on my left wrist (I'm left-handed, so I handled the knife with my right hand). It hurt so badly! I did it with a pocket knife. I can still see the little scar, that little dark scar between the two veins. I decided afterwards that I was done with self-injury.

But no. I wasn't.

The second time, I was 13, and I did three shallow cuts on top of the scar of that first cut. The first cut didn't hurt that badly, the second one stung, and the third one was like bloody murder, so I stopped at three. I bandaged it, and to anybody who asked -- I just fell and scraped my arm on the sidewalk.

The third time, I was 14, and I did three deep cuts and six shallow ones further down my wrist. I found this area about two inches below the base of my thumb, and it bled A LOT when I cut there. There was something relaxing about watching myself bleed. This time was different -- the first hurt really badly, and then 2-4 stung a little, and #5 was therapeutically relaxing. Cuts 6-9 hurt pretty badly, so I stopped there. I bandaged it and went to bed. My mom discovered it the next morning. She took me to the doctor, and I lied to the doctor and my parents by saying that my dog had scraped my arm. I can't remember if the doctor believed me or just gave up on me. She did recommend that I go back on anti-depressants. That just made it worse. SO MUCH WORSE.

Between the ages of 14 and 15, I had so many instances of self-injury that I stopped counting. One big example, when I was 15, was when I saw an old friend, who used to be my best friend (until I wasn't "cool" enough for him), and I smiled at him, hoping we could bond again, and he just looked away. I went home, and I cut over one of the deep cuts from when I was 14. Now there's a nasty scar there that won't go away. It has been 11 months, and it still looks as bad as it did 10 months ago. I do everything I can to make it go away.

To me, self-injury, especially cutting, is therapeutic. I know that there will be people on this site who will tell me how bad it is for me and that I should stop, and I know all of that. But there's nothing that anybody can say that will make me stop -- even my own common sense knows that it's wrong, and I still do it, so there is no outside influence that will make me stop.

It has been 11 months since I last cut on my wrist. I will never cut on my wrist again, although I miss watching the blood run down my wrist... no other part of my body bleeds like my wrists ever did. I regret cutting on my wrists. I deeply regret it. Now I have to be careful to either wear long sleeves with a watch, or to just hold my left wrist down.

I'm not done with self-injury, though! Nowadays, I cut on my leg (and the solution is to only wear pants -- and if I have to wear a dress, I always wear tights under it). The self-injury is steadily getting worse. Now, I need more and more each time I cut. I need more feeling, more pain... it doesn't hurt anymore to cut. The first cut is like a little pinch, a little tug, and then the rest are... well, therapeutic. I only ever stop cutting when I get bored or run out of room.

I have recently started puncturing my leg with a safety pin numerous times -- for one thing, it doesn't scar my leg. For the second thing, it hurts FAR more -- it's more than enough pain. I used to only be able to puncture my leg once, but now, I can do it six or seven times before the pain becomes overwhelming.

My psychiatrist recommended finding other coping strategies -- aside from self-injury, of course. She recommended that I listen to music. I took her advice -- but not how she intended. I started listening to music WHILE I self-injured. I listen to a song about self-injury WHILE I self-injure. So her advice backfired. I never tell her. I just tell her that music is helping me... even though it's just making it worse and more desirable, because I really like the song, and I ONLY ever listen to the song when I'm self-injuring, so it's like a special occasion for me.

Yep, it's definitely getting worse.
Boulier Boulier
18-21, F
Oct 12, 2013