A feeling of release and euphoria shoots through my body as the blade slides across my wrist. The pain that has consumed me for days is finally ridding itself from my body. The blood that trickles down my hand is insignificant compared to the sense of calm that is finally sweeping through my body.
Itâ€™s always like this. I canâ€™t control the feelings that overwhelm me, but every time I take the blade to my skin I feel free. Itâ€™s that moment when I finally feel in control of my life again.
Iâ€™m twenty-five years old now, but I was sixteen when I started cutting. I didnâ€™t do it for attention, but I didnâ€™t do it because I wanted to end my life either. I did it because I needed to escape. Life was having one of those â€˜fuck youâ€™ moments and throwing too many things into my path and I was at an age where I just wasnâ€™t able to cope with everything that was happening to me. Now that Iâ€™m older, itâ€™s my security blanket. Itâ€™s the only thing that makes the pain go away. Itâ€™s the only thing that makes me feel normal again.
When I was younger, I was what you would consider an average girl. I didnâ€™t stand out, but I didnâ€™t completely blend into the background either. But, everything was fine. Life was fine. At least it was until I turned sixteen. Once I turned sixteen everything went downhill and Iâ€™ve never been able to make myself whole again. Iâ€™ve never been able to feel normal or fine again. The things that happened, I didnâ€™t handle well, but theyâ€™re things that nobody would have handled well.
Iâ€™m not saying my life is an excuse for cutting. I know people whose lives are a lot worse than mine. People who turned out just fine, who donâ€™t need to cut or feel pain to cope. Iâ€™m not that person. I do. Thatâ€™s just the way life is. Everyone handles things differently.
After something happened to me, I would try to be positive. Iâ€™d tell myself, itâ€™s not the worst thing in the world. Then something else would happen and Iâ€™d have to build myself up again. Eventually, I got tired of building myself up, so I shut down. I closed myself off from everything and everyone. I locked everything that happened to me and every emotion that came with it away, and threw away the key. The worst part is that more times than not the darkness was my only comfort, my only friend.