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Description
I used to be a cutter.

One reason I dropped my old account was to try and establish a new name for myself and start over.

Something I work on every day.

The cutting itself started six years ago, in tenth grade. I'm not sure exactly what spurred my motivation to self injure, but the moment I did it, I was lost to it.

I found it to be the only thing that helped me keep my head above water. It wasn't for "release" and it didn't necessarily make me feel "better". In fact, what it did was remind me that I was still alive, that I could actually feel something. I relished the physical pain because it was my own private way of punishment and my way of keeping alive.

Eventually my secret was discovered by both parents and peers. The journey after was a long and painful one. The cutting took on a life of its own and I dabbled in others means of self medication as well as suicidal tendencies.

However, by the end of my high school year, I seemed to have gotten a hold on it, at least a little bit. The cutting was only a few times a week, rather than five times a day. I no longer wanted to die. But there were still elements that ailed me, even a year after graduation.

I sought out help in October of 2010. I am a different person now. Though the changes haven't been huge and I still don't know what it was that helped me get over the cutting in the first place, I do know what I want in life now. And I do see a future for me, rather then a bleak hole of nothing that plauged me for years.

In saying all this, I reach out to anything who is struggling with cutting or depression or any mental illness to seek help. It's scary, I know, but the rest of your life is worth it. Don't ever feel like a freak or stupid for reaching out.

And please, contact me if you ever want to talk. I'm always willing to listen.

Description
I used to be a cutter.

One reason I dropped my old account was to try and establish a new name for myself and start over.

Something I work on every day.

The cutting itself started six years ago, in tenth grade. I'm not sure exactly what spurred my motivation to self injure, but the moment I did it, I was lost to it.

I found it to be the only thing that helped me keep my head above water. It wasn't for "release" and it didn't necessarily make me feel "better". In fact, what it did was remind me that I was still alive, that I could actually feel something. I relished the physical pain because it was my own private way of punishment and my way of keeping alive.

Eventually my secret was discovered by both parents and peers. The journey after was a long and painful one. The cutting took on a life of its own and I dabbled in others means of self medication as well as suicidal tendencies.

However, by the end of my high school year, I seemed to have gotten a hold on it, at least a little bit. The cutting was only a few times a week, rather than five times a day. I no longer wanted to die. But there were still elements that ailed me, even a year after graduation.

I sought out help in October of 2010. I am a different person now. Though the changes haven't been huge and I still don't know what it was that helped me get over the cutting in the first place, I do know what I want in life now. And I do see a future for me, rather then a bleak hole of nothing that plauged me for years.

In saying all this, I reach out to anything who is struggling with cutting or depression or any mental illness to seek help. It's scary, I know, but the rest of your life is worth it. Don't ever feel like a freak or stupid for reaching out.

And please, contact me if you ever want to talk. I'm always willing to listen.