All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The temporary Cure
I never knew that this would be me. I never knew I would end up like this as a person who came to this point in my life when I didn’t care anymore, weather I lived or died. I always thought of myself as better than that. I couldn’t believe anyone would ever want to inflict pain on themselves. I always thought they were attention seekers and weirdoes. I judged the, I never looked right in front of me and saw anyone can do it. Anyone can take a razor blade and drag it across their wrist. Even me. At first I didn’t even think I was “cutting” I thought I was just experimenting, that a few scratches would never hurt and they would be gone within a few days.
The addiction took over, it was like a high, I never would do drugs, this didn’t occur to me as a drug though; I thought I was just going to be able to stop whenever I wanted too. It took over me; I couldn’t stop thinking about the razor blades under my bed. I couldn’t stop thinking about the blood on the floor. I couldn’t ever stop thinking about anything. The past would come and swallow me in self pity and I lost it. I lost who I was and was taken over by another side of me. She couldn’t handle anything and just wanted to disappear. The real me had no control.
I told myself “this is the last time” every time. That just made it worse, I went from once a week, to once a day, to when I woke up, when I was at school even, to when I got home, to when I took a shower, to when I went to bed, to every time by myself. I would even try and set limits, okay you can just do like part of your wrists. Okay know I ran out of room, how about half of my lower arm, that’s not bad, how about just my arm, how about just up to my shoulder, oh know someone saw. I felt embarrassed but at the same time saved that someone knew. They never came to help.
I moved to my leg, ran out of room, my other leg, out of room, my stomach. Everywhere on me was covered with cuts. Each one telling a time I felt pain. It will be there forever. I didn’t realize, what will happen, when I want to go swimming with friends and they see, what will happen if I am at the doctors and they see. What if I cut to deep?
I thought I was safe, that the pain would just go away. But the scars show it doesn’t, it keeps going and cutting my wrists, arms, shoulders, legs anywhere with a blade won’t help. It was a temporary cure. That in the end made everything worse. I will never be the same and will always have the part of me that wants to reach for the blade.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.