The truth

It's funny how fast some things can change. One minute you're happy with who you are and you're happy with your life... But the next, you can hate it. For me, it started two years ago. I was about 14 - my friend was talking to this guy and he was begging her for a picture. She gave me his number so I could get him to stop asking her, but eventually he convinced me into sending him one. He is extremely "popular" so, needless to say, people found out. I became a "slut" in a matter of seconds. Long story short, within these past two years I've sent probably 50 guys pictures. The thing that really pushed me over the edge, though, was when people found out about a hookup I had. Everyone was talking about it. Rumors about me were crazy. It wasn't only people at my school either. It was people at about five other ones as well. A few people told me I was the "class slut". A guy broke up with me because his friends were making fun of him for dating a "slut". I know I deserve better than him, but it didn't make it hurt any less that people were making fun of me so much that people stopped associating with me, because they were getting made fun of too. Anyway, after he broke up with me I was lying in bed crying, and for some reason the idea of cutting occurred to me. I cut on my bone. Not deep but enough that I felt relief. I felt in control. I felt like I needed some control over all the pain I had, and this was it. Cutting gave me that control. I couldn't control what people thought or said about me. I couldn't control the pictures that people were sending. I couldn't control my emotional pain, but I could control the depth of my cuts. Where I did it. What I did it with. When I did it. That made everything else seem okay. Even if for just a short time.

I've been cutting for a year. It's gotten progressively worse. When I started, I used bobby pins. Now I use knives. At times, when I'm going through something really stressful, I carry one with me. And if I don't have one with me I always have a bobby pin in my hair. I still cut on my hips so no one can see. I can still where a bathing suit too (occasionally I cut on my wrist or ankle or thigh but not usually). I cut over scars and other cuts when they start to heal.

My last boyfriend broke up with me because I'm " too depressed". Well he knew I cut from one of the first few times we talked and he knew about all my "issues" for just as long. He told my parents. I still haven't stopped though. I'm not ready to. I know I'm being selfish and hurting the people who love me but I'm not ready to stop. I've tried but I just can't. I will stop - but when I'm ready. For now I just wish people would let me live. Maybe then I could get better and eventually stop cutting. But right now it feels like every time things start to get better, something else pushes me down.