Crying Red Tears.

In high school I was very troubled. I ran away from home at the tender age of 16, and the although I tried to act tough, I was crying on the inside all along. I  don't know how I first found out about cutting my self, I think it started as a cry for help. I wanted someone to see that I needed help, and I didn't know how to simply say, I need help. I found that although the cuts on my arm didn't invoke the type of help I wanted, it did make me feel better. I hated my self, and the cutting was in a way punishment that I was able to dole out to my self at will. If I failed a test, I cut, if I didn't get asked to the prom I cut, if I was simply about to brake down and cry at the mess my life was, I would cut. I felt some sort of pleaser in the pain, and the blood that I watched drip off my arms was like the tears I was afraid to cry. Deep down in side I knew what I was doing was sick, but I couldn't stop. I went on like that for several years, and hurt some people who cared about me. I know that to the people who loved me, watching me carve my arms up must have torn at them, but at the time I was in to much mental pain to understand what I was doing to everyone else. Finley over time I got to to the point I was able to talk about what I was feeling and sowley felt the need to hurt my self less and less. I still want to some times, it's like quitting any thing, drinking, smoking, whatever, you still want to at times and it's hard to remind your self that it's no longer a way you will allow yourself to deal with things.

UPDATE.

It's been a bit since I wrote the above story and I wanted to post an update. Cutting is back in my life now, I guess you can say that I relapsed, I  look at cutting as an addiction although that is for debate depending on who you talk to. In any case for me it is, that old fall back that you try to push away and forget about because you know in the long term it does more harm than good, but in the short term it provides some relief, it comes back when you’re feeling low, knocking at your door, reminding you that it made you feel good once, and before you know it you've invited it back in your life, and it fools you for a bit, makes you feel better, but like an abusive lover it only hurts you more in the long run. My cutting now has caused a dear friend who was in recovery from drug abuse to relapse, I know that I cannot control what others do, but seeing me with stitches up and down my arm caused untold amounts of pain to this fragile person and I know that I added to his relapse. And when he went back to using I turned my back on him, because I didn’t want to start using with him. Jayson, if you ever read this, I'm so sorry, I know now how much it hurts to be abandon when you’re struggling with drug use, and I'm so sorry, I hope that despite me, you got clean and are doing ok. My cutting has become known to co workers of late as well, it's too hard to hide the stitches and it's caused me to endanger my job due to lost time at work when I had been at the ER all night and called in to work. I know that my co workers think of  me as a freak when they found out, it's way too hard to explain why I kept having "accidents" all the time, and at one point I confessed to my boss what was going on in the hopes that somehow in knowing what was going on with me she might have some understanding, it didn't work at all and she only told me that I needed to deal with my issues on my own time, and that my lost time at work was costing them money. I don't know what reaction I expected her to have, I didn't want her to feel sorry for me, I know what I do is sick and hard to relate to, but her reaction made me feel even worse about myself and even more unwilling to discuses my issues with anyone. Keeping my cutting to myself is imposable, my arms are covered with scars and I know that when people ask, and I make up some flimsy excuse they don't believe me, and I wish that I was able to be honest, I hear people say that when they recover from drinking and drug abuse it helps not to feel they need to hide and lie any more, to let it out in the open, and I wish that I could do that. I live with my sister and although she knows about the past I can't tell her that I relapsed, and it's made me feel less close to her that I'm hiding this, I hide my arms under long sleeves even thou it's summer and 100 degrees out, and I wonder if she knows and is hurt that I can't tell her. It hard too when even doctor’s treat me as if I am a waste of time when I show up at the ER with blood dripping from the gaping cut on my arm, as with many addictions, my cutting now demands that I to do more and more damage, and to cut deeper and deeper to feel the same sense of relief, now it seems that every time I cut it's never enough until I've cut a gash in my arm that needs at least 20 stitches to close.  So long little scratches and shallow cuts, hello bleeding to death when the times comes that I cut to deep and can't stop the bleeding, how ironic it would be if I end up killing myself on accident, after all the time that I tried to end my life. This last time I cut I cut to deep, and suddenly I felt blood splash across my face, and looked down to see my blood spurting with every beat of my heart, being an EMT I know arterial blood spurts, and I worried that I might not be able to stop the bleeding before I was able to get to the hospital.  I was able to control it with presser and made it to the hospital without any issues other than feeling light headed and sick. The Dr that treated me acted as if I was a complete loser, and seemed to not care about the fact that when he was hurting me badly when he placed the two layers of stitches it took to close my arm, that I whimpered in pain every time the needle entered my skin, and when he pulled with excessive force on the knots in the thread I had tears streaming from my eyes. It may be hard for someone to understand what a little more pain is to someone who did the amount of damage to themselves that I did, but it matters immensely it me if I'm causing the pain, and if I have control over it. I cut  some times because I feel out of control, and to have someone who is meant to provide healing, cause me more pain  and be uncaring about it, to even seem to think I was deserving of it, was devastating to me. I don't know if any of you reading this can understand unless you are cutters as well, but when I finely walked out of the ER I was so upset that I wanted to cut myself all over again, just because of how bad he had made me feel. I didn't that time simply because I was afraid what has happened with the extremeness of the last cut. I don't want to die just now, and it finely hit home that I just might go too far the next time. It may sound dramatic, but the worry that my sister might find my dead body covered in blood has kept me from cutting again so far. It's an uneasy truce that I have now, and I know that I have simply replaced one addiction with another, and I feel as if I am no better off using drugs as a way to cope insted of cutting and it may be worse, I don't know. All that I do know is that I can't seem to find a positive way to handle my issues, and I just hope that one day I can. Friends and therapist say to take a walk, call a friend, pet my dog, prey, all sorts of things, but they never seem to have the same impact as far as reliving the intense feelings that I cut and use drugs to avoid. To me it's like taking Advil to cope with a broken leg, when what you need is to have to bone reset, and a cast put on, my pain is inside, it's not as simple as resetting a broken bone to fix my broken mind. I lost my job that provided me with health insurance due to the many times I called in to work  after being up all night needing to have the damage I’d done to myself repaired, and no isurance hasn’t kept me from racking up thousands of dollars in ER trips,  but it has prevented me from being able to seek therapy. I know that I need help and it’s a sad fact then when things finely got bad enough for me to be welling to comment myself 100 % too treatment, to finely make the effort to say good bye to all my easy, nonworking ways of coping, and be welling to seek the harder road to recovery, I can’t get the help that I need. I know that I can possibly find sliding scale mantel health treatment, but most of the places that I’ve called won’t take me until I’m clean from drugs. And as I said in my post on addiction, I don’t know how to get clean right now. My drug use has replaced cutting as a way to cope, to handle all the things that I just don’t seem to be able to handle about daily life, the ups and down, the bad days the everyone has, the crappy days at work, little things all in all that somehow I just can’t let go of. They eat away at my soul like a cancer, and I try to find relief in the ways that I have, but in the end my ways just bring on more hurt and pain, like when that cute guy I like so much thinks I’m to ****** up for him to ever want to date, and when I hate myself even more for the fact that my drug addiction is stronger them my morals, stronger then knowing that I am risking ny hope of a good feture, stronget then the hurt I feel when my friends give up at long last saying they can't watch me die any more. I desperately want to be free of this cage that I have locked myself into, and I hope that somehow I can overcome this, before I sacrifice anything else on this alter of destruction. I hope that when this is read perhaps it will help someone, perhaps inspire a fellow suffer to seek help, or to bring some understanding to others who can’t relate to how someone can abuse themselves the way that we do. Please, if you’re suffering, try to get help someway, and comment to it fully if you are getting help, it only gets worse, and then it’s that much harder to deal, when you do try to stop.  You can die from cutting, I know it’s true now, and it should be treated as if it is as terminal as chronic drug abuse is treated,  as if you are dancing with death every day,  and you never know when their won’t be a tomorrow to get help. I’m sorry if I seem to be dramatic, and I’m not looking for pity or even understanding,  I just hope that I might be able to help in the same way that I find it helps me to read others stories, and know that I am not alone, that I am not a freak in my illness. I will try to keep up on my posts, and let you know what became of me, and I hope that the next time I post I will have some positive news to tell you about how it is possible to overcome this, and some advice about what helped. I welcome your comments and feedback, just please keep any hurtful words to yourself, I don’t need to feel any more guilt, I have enough to last a life time.

rescueangel rescueangel
26-30, F
2 Responses Feb 15, 2007

I am a mom that has recently found out her daughter is cutting what do i do?

im here to talk, we are very similar in fact, somehow i think i may end up as you when im older. im not planning on living in this house much longer and i wonder how it would be to leave..