Confessions of a Former Self-Abuser

November 28, 2010
By randomgirlyoudontknow BRONZE, Sioux Falls, South Dakota
randomgirlyoudontknow BRONZE, Sioux Falls, South Dakota
3 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Love is only a dirty trick played on us to achieve continuation of the species." ~ W. Somerset Maugham

It started on a cold winter day; December 26th to be exact. I can’t remember why; I just remember doing it.

I was upset. Anger and sadness clouded my vision. All I could think of was pain; I wanted pain. And I wasn’t sure why.

Without thinking, I grabbed the closest thing to me--a blue thumbtack. With it clutched tightly in my hand, I dragged it across the inside of my wrist, little bubbles of red climbed to the surface.

Why am I doing this? I remember thinking to myself. But I didn’t answer myself back...I continued to drag that little thumbtack.

I fell asleep with it still clutched in my hand.

For weeks, I continued to slash up my arms and wrists, each stroke of the blade and every thought, every feeling, every doubt in my mind was concentrated into that little stab of pain.

Nothing mattered but the crimson tears that ran down the fresh, virgin skin of my arm.

I used everything I could get my hands on; knives, pens, scissors, paperclips, staples, razors, glass...I used everything I could get.

After just a few months, my arms were ragged and ripped. Long, raised slits wrapped around me like thin ribbons; blood crusted on the surface. I was lost, and I wasn’t near ready to be found.

My parents weren’t blind; they knew something was up. Why I was locked in my room all the time, why the scissors on my bed were flecked with red, why I always wore long sleeves. I wasn’t the same little girl I had been months earlier. I was sick. They tried to help me, but I refused. I didn’t talk to them and I tried to completely shut them out of my life. They threatened to take everything I had away from me, until all I had left was a mattress, pillow and blanket.

They threatened to take me out of school and watch me 24/7--even in the bathroom. They begged me to stop, they tried to bribe me. They even took away every sharp thing in the house. But I still found a way to cut.

I stole things from school; I stole things from my house. I took the edge of a book and rubbed it on the inside of my write, desperate for a release.

It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I would open up wounds with my fingernails, and create new ones with the same denominator. Which drove my parents to cut my nails every day.

I screamed and protested, but they never gave up on me.

Months had gone by, and I had developed an eating disorder and walked around with the only intent of leaving where I was going. I was pale, and thin; my eyes were empty and circled by black; the blackness of no sleep. I was the hollow shell of a girl who called herself me.

I screamed inside, I wanted to leave this place. No one understood just what I was going through, and no one wanted me, or wanted to help.

One night, I snapped; lost my mind, if you will. I laid in a fetal position on my mattress, clutching the bookshelf next to me, the harsh edge of the wood biting into my palm.

I barley knew where I was. Screams and sobs wracked my small body; I wanted to die; I was being eaten from the inside out. My parents were terrified. They tried to calm me down, but every word they said angered me more. I began screaming I wanted to die; I wanted to kill myself. And I was going to do it.

I even had a plan. I would pretend to calm down and once they thought I was safe, they’d go to bed. Then I’d sneak into the bathroom and take every pill I could. Then I’d slit my wrist.

But that was too long to I decided to jump out my window. I walked over to the window sill and tugged on the frame, desperately trying to open it. My mother walked it and saw me; she demanded to know what I was doing. But I didn’t have to answer; she already knew. This wasn’t my first attempt. Weeks before, I had found myself in the bathroom, the pill bottle open, small little circles cupped in my hand, poised before my mouth; water at the ready...

But this time, my mother intervened. The tugged me away from the window and laid me down on the bed, trying fruitlessly to calm me down. After another 10 minutes of screaming, the family decided to take me to the hospital. And that was the start of my 2 week stay at the ------------- ---------- Psychiatric Ward.

It was not a pleasant experience--I still have nightmares today--but the experience changed me. It took over a year to fully recover--many different medications, therapists appointments and restrictions--and now, two years later from that first cut, I am free of the burden.

Sure, I still have my ups and my downs, but I vowed to myself to never go down that path again. I was swallowed once, and I never want to be swallowed again.

The author's comments:
I was a young girl during this ordeal--only 12 years old. But through this experience, I have grown immensely; matured a lot. This isn't the full account of my experience, just a short, edited version. I relapsed many times throughout my recovery, but I'm glad to say I'm completely cut-free today.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Dec. 31 2010 at 6:38 pm
randomgirlyoudontknow BRONZE, Sioux Falls, South Dakota
3 articles 0 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Love is only a dirty trick played on us to achieve continuation of the species." ~ W. Somerset Maugham

Oh, thank you so much! And that's very great advice. xD

on Dec. 26 2010 at 1:01 am
TanazMasaba GOLD, Dhaka, Other
16 articles 10 photos 214 comments

Favorite Quote:
"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's Heaven on Earth."

---William W. Purkey

this is such a beautiful work. Most people can't always describe an experience this way, in a way that makes you feel like you are walking for a minute in the auuthor's shoes. I wish the best for you and I am so glad you finally recovered! Every girl goes through this, or some thing like this (I know I do) but u know what? At one point, the sun rises again and every thing is sunny and brighter and warmer again, so we shouldn't give up trying to be what we can be. we should live life the way it is--a mix of all the shades of all the colors there is.


And as i have a habit of giving advises, here's one for you: Always be the silver lining but never the clouds.

Parkland Book