Yes Evan Still....

It started at the age of 13. Scratching at myself with sharp rocks and than glass. It progressed to the little shaving razors. Than it got worse. I remember going to the store and buying a pack of double sided razor blades. I was freaking out than. I wore a hoodie so they couldn't see my fresh wounds. It was the middle of summer. I kept waiting for the chashier to ask me why I was buying the blades but she didn't say anything. I also remember my other methods of harming. The ones that I would do when my therapist made me promise her not to cut. I pounded my head against the wall. I was trying to make myself black out. Trying to make the voice stop. I remember hitting myself with a pool stick. Strangling myself with headphone cord. I remember the overdoses. They put me into blissful sleep. More than that, I remember the relief that cutting myself gave. All my thoughts would just stop. Sometimes I would evan look down at myself while cutting. The crimson tickles...running blood. Staining the carpet. I was so calm afterwards. At peace. The pain reminded me that I was alive and real. It gave me away to punish myself for my sins. It gave a physical outlet for my inner turmoil. It helped me. Its been awhile....since I've cut. I don't regret it. I'd do it all over again. It made me into what I am today.

flybat3 flybat3
18-21, F
Feb 7, 2010