My life is different from what it seems on the outside. When you first look at me, you may think that I’m just an average teenage girl. But truthfully I’m not, in my mind, I have more going on in there than most people do. My emotions are unbearable, and sometimes life just gets too hard for me to handle. This is what led me to cutting.

When I was about 12 I started cutting my wrists. I still remember the first time I did it. I locked myself in the bathroom at my brother’s house. I took out my razor, cleaned it and placed it on my wrist, as I slid it across my skin and watched the trail of red appear I gained some sense of peace. Call it sick or gross but it seemed like all of my emotions slipped away I felt nothing but the pain of my wrist, and that, to me, was easier to deal with than all the other emotions I was feeling. I had made the first step towards my addiction.


After the first few times, I kept telling myself I would stop the next day. Well days turned to weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I didn’t know it at the time, but I became addicted to cutting myself. But don’t get me wrong. I never once did it for attention; I cut because it was my way of coping with what was going on inside of my head. It was my outlet for everything I was feeling. It was my way out, even if for only a few moments.



The summer of 2009 I went down to the beach with my mom and sister. While we were in the hotel my sister had asked me why I had a sweatband on my wrist, and when I couldn’t give her a good explanation she told my mom. When my mom saw the cuts, she never said anything; she just looked and walked away from me. I think if she would have yelled at me or at least acted like she cared about what I was doing things would have turned out differently. It hurt that she didn’t care; I added another cut for that.

My eighth grade year was when my cutting was the worst. Every day after school I would go into my bath room and cut myself with those razors they use in hair salons or really sharp scissors, I’d pour nail polish remover on the cut, clean it and wrap it up with pre-wrap. The first time I even tried to stop cutting it was January 2010. I lasted for about a week, if that. Cutting went on, I never realized that maybe my parents never cared about it, maybe my brothers or sister never cared, but my friends and boyfriend did. I never realized how much I was hurting them. January 21, 2010 I found about a group called TWLOHA. I joined the group on facebook.com, I thought it’d be a cool group, but I never thought it was a group of people that were just like me. That group is what led me to try again, TWLOHA gave me hope that maybe I could do it this time.




In March, I made a promise to myself and others that I would give up cutting for good. Today as I sit here writing this I look back to those days where I almost broke and went right back to cutting, being clean has not been easy for me. I’ve had so many hard times where I thought I was going to lose control and kill myself, other times I was severely depressed and would have crying spells that lasted hours upon hours. And the people around me wouldn’t know what to do. Those were the worst times of my life. I really never thought I had it in me to stop an addiction so strong like cutting.

Throughout the past three months my boyfriend has been the one to help me through it all. He’s been the one to hold me and tell me that I was strong enough to make it out of this alive, I have him to thank that I’m where I am in life today. I believe that cutting is a major problem in the world, and I believe that anyone can stop cutting if they have people there to help them through it. I don’t know what I would be like today if it weren’t for everyone that stood by me and supported me like my friends and boyfriend did. I don’t know if I would have ever stopped cutting, or if I would even be here today. But I’m glad I am, and I plan on staying clean from cutting, I don’t want to go back to that.