The first post will be about something that I am facing, but am starting to recover from (hopefully). No, not drugs or getting bad grades in school. I am talking about self-injury (SI). If you knew me you wouldn't even believe it. I'm the kind of person that always has something funny to say, or is always in a cheerful mood. Well, that may be all a lie, to some extent.
I started cutting in about 8th grade, but I had been self-injuring myself about a year before. By bruising myself, to be precise. I actually wrote poetry back then too, though I doubt any of it was any good. Here are two pieces I wrote:
Listen
Please hear what I'm not saying
This is life or death and I'm not playing
Hear my silent screams
Lost among my broken dreams
Behind my silenced cries
And a memory that never dies
Please listen to my silent talk
Alone I don't want to walk
Decode my cryptic language
Don't let me drown in anguish
You can help me, I know it
You're my only chance, don't blow it
I'm lost, help me find my way
Listen to the words I never say
Addicted to Pain
It couldn't be, but it was true
What was I coming to?
I was afraid, I was addicted
To the pain I self-inflicted
Depressed and unable
My life completely unstable
A sensation like fire
A hidden desire
It needed to stop, it needed to end
My broken heart needed to mend
This is what my friends advised
They really cared I realized
They couldn't see that I was scared
I was afraid, I was addicted
To the pain I self-inflicted
Every cut, imprinted in my mind
A way out is what I needed to find
Every cut, carved into my soul
A desire that burned inside like coal
I needed to fill the gap in my heart
I needed to keep it from falling apart
Artistic With Blood
I want to draw a picture, I'll draw it on my wrist
I'll draw it with a razor blade and add it to my list
I want to write a story, I'll write it with a twist
I'll write it with my blood and forget that I exist
I've got an artist internally hidden
I've got a story externally written
I like writing, I like drawing, I like dreaming
I must be lying because inside I'm screaming
The truth is I like bleeding, it's a habit, an addiction
I hate it, I love it, it's my favorite sedative self-infliction
That is the kind of stuff that I wrote during the time that I was cutting, well, honestly, I wrote worse stuff but I selected these. I started cutting before cutting became "cool," or maybe I just went to a close-minded school. I had actually never intended to tell anybody, but one person knows and it's out like wildfire.
I even came upon this site for that exhibits "emo" cuts. Honestly, I was scared as f**k. I cut because I was bullied and I had already felt worthless. I know I was mentally unstable to a certain extent. No, I wasn't in a strait jacket and I have never been in a psych ward. You couldn't even tell that I was severely depressed. But I never EXHIBITED my cuts online. I do realize I have some pictures posted above that seem to contradict me because I am portraying other people's cuts. But it's only so that you see reality, it's nowhere near to the pictures I found.
Nope.
I'm not telling you the name of the site, just because I know the curious will seek it out.
I mean seriously, that just is not how self-injury should be portrayed. It's a real problem that should not look like a competition of teenage angst. It's real. It might be somebody you know. If you need help, talk to me, send me a message: xxdat1girlxx@gmail.com. It's that simple. Chances are I'll reply in about a minute (computeraholic!). But, honestly, don't put anything online that you might regret. There are plenty of people that wouldn't mind telling a cutter to go kill themselves. Sure, there are good people out there that wouldn't, but they are more likely actually doing something to help.
Don't get me wrong, you have to reach out. Seriously, reach out. I'm not saying keep it to yourself. Just don't make yourself look like a f**ked up stereotype.
Yeah, yeah. I know. I said I'd keep this with a "cool" tone. Sorry. I'm getting emotional. The site I found apparently also exhibits the dismembered victims of the drug cartel wars in Mexico. Yeah, just like that. Sure, the truth should be known, but not made to look like that. People actually died. What for? Do be displayed online? There should be efforts to stop this. It's not funny.
Well, anyway, before I get carried away I want to end this on a hopeful note.
This is for the cutters out there. And everybody else. This is for reaching out.
Yes, I am going to make this up on the spot, bear with me.
This is for the people wish they could disappear sometimes
This is for the people that went unheard so many times
For whoever bothers to read these rhymes
Reach Out
This is for those who don't know why
Why they're here, maybe they just want to die
This is for those that need a little hope
Maybe a better way to cope
I was lost once, I thought that nobody cared
I was wrong though, to reach out I hadn't dared
Reach out, have hope, be free
Let yourself for a second see
Just all that you really can be
If somebody pulls you back
It's only because they themselves lack
And can't have you free and flying
So why not keep you from trying?
To all the critics that despise us
Go ahead and criticize us
I have hope and love enough to go around
Your words don't have me locked and bound
I'm tired of trying to flee
I'm finally breaking free
Watch me make it to the top
Nothing's gonna make me stop
Reach out, I'm not leaving anybody behind, are you?
Take the hand that searches for yours, always be true
Never stop reaching out
Silence kills
LOVE and HOPE for you ALL
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