The content of these pages may contain "triggering" material.
The content of these pages may contain "triggering" material.
Hi
My name is Dylan i am 20 and i have a story that i would like to share with you.
The very first time i cut my arm i was locked away in a mind altering psychiatric hospital for kids and teens.This place gave me a huge reason to go slicing my arm to pieces.But with only a weak shard of plastic i never felt the pain dripping from my veins,It only hurt me more knowing i could not open myself up enough to were all the pain i was feeling would be nurtured.In truth it was never enough to last even a minute,So i carried the shard of plastic with me all time cutting my arm when ever i could.
The pain from the scratches lasted a long time but it was never enough to release the hurt within me.And the little openings in my arm accompanied by the see through blood stains on my flesh only angered me,I felt i must see more blood i needed to feel more pain.And so when i was finally released from the hospital i had found a short term new best friend,A knife from my kitchen gave me peace for 2 months.I was 11 when i first laid the sharp cold blade upon my skin,Pressing it down hard breathing and huffing screaming inside Do It!!!!!The pressure on my arm was hard,The knifes teeth biting into my flesh as i tried to push up enough pain deep from within,So that i could rip into my arm without hesitation and without fear.
I had so many cuts spilling blood on my arm i could not even see the others i had made,Dripping onto the floor as i quivered from the pain my blood flow was freeing me of my sorrow.The small wounds on my arm brought tears to my eyes because even in so much pain,The little cuts big to most people needed to be even bigger and deeper for me.When i say most people i mean those who do not cut.
The tears i shed were falling into the cuts on my arm and into the blood now sticking to my arm,All these thoughts racing through my mind why are you doing this!!Oh God!.I kept telling myself out loud Dylan stop!! stop!! please!!My sight became blurred from all my tears and my cries louder because now i was afraid,I could not stop i could not drop the knife from my hand.
I only raised it up again to my mutilated skin with my eyes wide open and my body trembling with pain,fear,misery,anger,sadness and sorrow.I pressed down again on a small open wound saying don't!!Don't but still screaming inside do it!!!And i sliced again,So deep that with one huff of incredibly strong breath i blew all my agony out and was calm and freed.
I only wish that feeling lasted,But of course as we all know it does not.What would stop this overwhelming need to feel we have to torture ourselves to release all the hurt within us?.....Pain given on the outside frees the pain from within,But why must we suffer even still?For me the pain inside was always with me,Cutting myself sucked all the hurt inside out like a magnet.And the stronger the pain on the inside the stronger the magent on the outside.
I must go even though i have so much more to say,But i hope that you will put this up for others to see!I will right again soon.....
- Dylan
I welcome the contributions of others who self-harm or have done so in the past. Send us your writing, or arrange to send us your art or music by e-mailing RAZOR at zanne@cea.edu
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Check out SCAR, a zine on the
subject of scars and self-harm. The content of these pages may contain "triggering" material. |
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to CUTTERS, a
page on the subject of people who self-harm. The content of these pages may contain "triggering" material. |
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to The History of Child Abuse |
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Contents Under
Pressure Razor's writing about experiences she had during a 13 year
bout with DSH and five times she was institutionalized. |
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to Leap Frogge Leap was locked up in mental institutions when she was a kid. Leap refers to them as "the Institutes." |