I am no longer scared. I never knew really what the cutting was about. I had thought as a teenager that it was normal to use a tack, a nail or a knife to carve into my skin. To see the blood.

I can remember sitting in the window, watching outside at what seems a busy life for some. For me I was just [There]. I felt as if no one saw me, could hear me. Not even me.

I stopped cutting for many years. Until one December night in the late nineties. Even then I couldn’t tell you why I did it.

I wanted to blame everyone around me. It was their doing, in my mind. The only thing that would have been better for me would have been. That someone else was holding the knife that stabbed me.

I do know this though. At the time, I felt anger and hurt, not having a thing in my life in the realm of control. Almost like a depth perception. Trying to help but always missing.

It was then I myself could understand. It felt good. It was warm, the blood it was a relief. My body felt no pain anymore.

I can remember the bloody foot print. The horror that felt when I thought I could actually bleed to death. Because that wasn’t what it was about at all.

Years later, I understand what it’s about now. Self Injury is more common then people even realize.

Am I a freak? No! Am I crazy? Only as much as the next person.

I do know what it is about now.

March 1st is Self Injury Awareness Day. The support ribbon color is orange. If you know someone that injures themselves. Show support, listen for a day. Don’t push them. Let them talk!

Tags: Self Injury

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