I was in the tenth grade at the age of 14. I was never popular. I stayed in the background and kept to myself or at least attempted to. My peers bullied me and I gave up on fighting back. I took it, internalized it, and never spoke of it when I got home. What was the point? To add fuel to the fire I was not an “A” student and I did not make the varsity team in basketball. Instead, I suffered through school, came home, did my homework, and repeated the days. My parents were divorced when I was two.  The deal was I had to see my biological dad every other weekend. I was also attempting to handle both of my parent’s re-marriages. Ultimately, I was juggling a lot of internal affairs. I hated my biological dad, still do, and the pressures of life built up and I was alone, stuck in my own world to try and fix it everything that I “did wrong,” but in the end, still made no one happy. 

It was around four in the afternoon on a Friday. I hated Friday’s in a way because it either meant I had to see my biological dad for the weekend or I was getting a grade back that I potentially could get in trouble for. Friday’s stunk. On this particular Friday I let my inside emotions out into the open…which I rarely did/do. Hysteria took a hold of me and I cried and cried, but silently in order to not be heard by my mother or stepfather. 

I finally landed in my main dresser drawer. Hurriedly, I untwined the material and all that was left was a tiny, sharp edge. Good enough. Later, I stopped crying feeling normal again, like nothing could stop me. However, something did. My stepfather was coming up the stairs to tell my biological dad was there to pick me up. I walked out of my bedroom with suitcase in hand. No one suspected anything. This behavior stuck for over ten years. 

I got help when I was diagnosed with having bipolar disorder. I broke down and told my mother I had been cutting. I think she had some suspicion about it. No one really knows about my cutting. Based on what doctors tell me cutting is a daily struggle and no one is “cured” from it. I took groups and many therapy/doctor appointments to cope with this. For me, the urge to cut is always there. I hate it sometimes, but it’s true. Although cutting is part of my daily struggles, it is something I have learned to cope with. That is what is important.

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