I Used Too.

I used to cut, not because I was so emotionally hurt, or upset that I felt better when I did it. I did it because I was addicted to the pain.

I started because well...I was curious. Some of my friends cut, and they said good things about it. So I finally decided to try it one day. I waited until I was sure my mom was going to be gone for a long while, then took a knife, not a kitchen knife, one of my collection. After waiting 10 or so minutes, working my courage up, and finally pressed the knife to my skin, and dragged it back to slice myself open.

I watched completely fascinated as the blood slowly started to leak out of the cut, and trail down the side of my arm. Then I realized something. The pain coming from my arm felt good. Not like it was releasing me from emotional pain, there wasn't enough of that that I needed a release, but it felt wonderful and exhilarating. I finally had the power to do something about how I looked, and no one could do anything about it. I wasn't happy that it left scars, but at least i controlled when and were I got them.

Over time, it became less and less about control, and more and more about the pain, and how I needed to feel it. I would always tell myself, whenever anyone would say the signs of addiction 'It's not addiction, I can stop anytime.'

This continued for years.

I finally quit after I was hospitalized, and realized that yes. I am a pain addict.

It's not something that I'm proud of, and, as with all addictions, it's not something I will ever be completely recovered from. I will always have urges to go back to the pain from time to time, but I will fight them and I will win.

Treval Treval
22-25, F
May 12, 2007