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A Little Deeper

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Cutting my wrists is almost like a pleasure. You won’t understand the jolting feelings that go through your body. I started cutting my wrist about 4 years ago when I was 12 years old. It all happened when everything around me started to come out all wrong. The people I got close to started to either get sick or die from strange illnesses that even doctors can’t figure out. Suddenly, I’m thinking of suicidal thoughts and wanting to look up guns, pills, drugs, and any other horrible thing out there.

I know I’m not alone out in the world who understands the spectacular feelings of cutting. It doesn’t have to be your wrists; you could cut just about everywhere. My friend Logan cuts her legs on purpose. She only does this method because of her parents.

Yes, I have tried to stop multiple times, but when you have been cutting your wrists non-stop for over 2 years, it’s hard to let go of the sensation to pick up anything sharp in order to get away from the world.

Before I started cutting, I stayed away from emo’s. I couldn’t understand why they would cut themselves. I criticized all people who did that. But now I understand where they come from. Now that I cut, I look back onto my past life and realize, that life was boring. I still don’t regret ever picking up that butter knife and agitated it to myself.

I’m now in a mental institute for this reason. They have no idea how old there going to keep me in this prison. In there eyes I did everything the wrong way. But in my eyes, I don’t belong here; I’m not the crazy one, they are.

I still remember the day they found me. Oh, I was heart broken. Not because they were going to take me away from my home, but only cause my little brother found me. I was in the bathroom cutting myself just like every other day. But today was a little different. Someone from my head told me to cut a little deeper. What could happen? So that’s what I did, I picked up my hidden paper cutter and sliced my wrists with it. Only problem was, right when I sliced it, my little brother opened the door. His vociferation was all that I needed to make me unconscious….
Well, it’s time for me to take my nightly pills and go to bed, but before I do, I think I’m going to give myself one last jolt in my system.
N……...i…….g….....h…………




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CKaye said...
Jun. 20, 2010 at 7:04 pm:
I really like this piece. And even though you dont do it yourself, you still understand.
 
EveineThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. replied...
Dec. 21, 2011 at 2:23 pm :
I used to suffer depression and i'd cut, it really hurted. but now im over it. you wrote this story good fo a person who never suffered it. itz amazing.
 
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