The first time I cut I think I was twelve or whatever age you are when you’re in the sixth grade. I’m not even sure where I got the idea from, but probably the media or internet. It’s one of those things you sorta just hear about, and you don’t think anything of it except wondering why people would purposely run a blade across their skin.
Between the sixth grade and last October as I encountered pain during certain moments of my life I would use cutting as an outlet. To feel something different. Sometimes it would be about feeling something different, sometimes it would be done after something I did that I believed I needed to be punished for. It was both something I chose to do to help me and to harm me. A vicious cycle of feeling and trying not to feel. I’ve been through a lot. The entire contents of this blog through its different stages displays that. Cutting however has been the only thing that I feel physically marks me as a “broken” or struggling human being.
Last October was the worst period of my life thus far and my upper right thigh has the scars to prove it. The scars prior to October are not noticeable to anyone else other than me, or never got bad enough that I had a physical scar from it. October however led me to scars that I will now have for the rest of my life. They are not something I will ever be proud of , they are not something that I will know how to explain to my children and they are not something I want particularly being noticed. However as lovely as my friends are, seeing but not saying anything I know that there are questions and thoughts that come from seeing a happy upbeat beautiful girl with scars covering a part of her body.
That said I feel the need to explain from my perspective that my scars do not define me. They don’t hinder me. In fact just by looking at them you can see that they are faded and healed and just a mark of incredibly deep pain I did not have the mental capacity to handle in a healthy way at that time. I believe moving out west was a hugely healthy decision. That I could focus on other things, I could develop hobbies and friends with perspectives from every part of the globe. I am the same upbeat happy beautiful girl that you can see on my face and when your eyes wander to my thigh where my shorts have ridden up just enough to see that there are scars that person does not change. Except maybe that there’s more to me then which new beer I’m trying or which new piece of snowboard gear I’m trying to pick out.
I don’t regret being a sensitive person. I am very aware that I feel my emotions incredibly deeply and I sense others deeply too. I love that some of my television shows make me cry and I love that my face lights up with incredible joy when something really great or even just kinda great happens. However learning to deal with the deep sadder harder emotions was and is a journey for me. Feeling them deeper meant not knowing how to handle them at times which did lead to hurting quite a few people who love/loved me. That I am also sorry for.
When you see a persons scars, read the scenario , know your relationship with that person and react accordingly. I’ve been embarrassed by people pointing them out in public and I’ve been asked by the 3 year old I nanny what they are. I’m an open person. I’m okay if you ask me about them, if you ask me about pretty much anything I’ll give you my honest answer or tell you to wait for a better time.
I currently live a pretty stress free life, even the things that are stressing me out are laughable in comparison to things outside the Whistler cultural context. (I.E my 2014/15 snowboard is nothing I can seriously stress about). I haven’t been tempted to cut in a loooonngg time. I honestly feel that I am only growing and journeying further into my ability to handle all the stuff I feel so much more than other people. I think that’s just one of the things in life that I get to grow in and learn from. That I am not embarrassed about,
I am one out of millions of people in the world that have self – mutilated and harmed. I am okay with being a person to talk to about it and I’m okay with being a survivor of such an incredibly dangerous habit. I remind myself constantly that I’m still here and right now everything is okay. There will come a time when almost nothing is okay and hopefully ill know how to handle it better because I’ve grown and journeyed through such hard things.
I’ve learned it get’s better. It truly does.