Teenage Adolescence

"My shell isn't as hard as it seems. I still hurt and rip at the seems. I cut the skin, but it didn't get deep enough to actually bleed."

I wrote this in my journal about a week after I had my first cutting experience. But more on that later.

Did you know that 13 percent of girls between the ages of 15 and 16 have admitted to purposely injuring themselves, according to a British Medical Journal study taken in 2002.

To many girls, cutting can be seen as a way to deal with stress or emotions. But in truth, cutting is just an unhealthy way to deal with problems. Believe me, I would know. Now, this is my story.

On the night of May 5, 2009, I was sitting on my bathroom floor, tears falling down my face with a razor in my hand. I had already made my decision.

All I could hear outside my bathroom door was, "Tell her to get out! She needs to leave! She has no respect!"

To fill you in, my sister and I were fighting earlier that night. We were yelling and throwing things at each other like siblings do. We had ended our little fight, when my step dad came in trying to make amends.

My step dad and I started arguing because he was trying to punish me for a fight that was already dealt with between my sister and I. I felt like his presence wasn't needed, but he insisted on punishing me for fighting with my sister.

I didn't feel the need to pay attention to him, so I kept looking at my computer screen as he stood there yelling at me. He demanded that I look him in the eye and show him some respect. My step dad isn't a mean person, but everyone has their faults.

Nonetheless, I continued to stare at my computer screen trying to ignore the yelling in my ear. He grabbed my face so I had to look at him. There was no way out. I was stuck.

That was it, the final straw. Having someone yell at you telling you to "Get Out!" and that your belongings will be waiting for you at the curb is a real heart breaker.

After my step dad was finished yelling at me, he turned to my mom. He told her that I needed to get out and that he was done dealing with my disrespect.

My mom argued back, "Oh she's just a teenager! They all act like this!" Apparently he was ill informed on the adolescence of teenage girls.

You see, my step dad has two daughters of his own, one 16 and one 12. However, he is never really around them much to see how they behave.

After my mom and step dad left my room, I walked into the bathroom and cried. I didn't want to deal with this anymore. I was hurt. I was depressed. My step dad wanted me out. I felt like I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I was all alone.

That was when I decided that I had to get rid of these feelings. I no longer wanted to feel abandoned or a burden on anyone.

Having someone say that you're disrespectful and need to leave your home, gives you a sense of neglect. I felt that since my step dad was saying all these rude things to me, that maybe I really was a problem for my family.

I heard of cutting before, but I never thought that I would become a victim of this form of self abuse. I heard that cutting relieved strong emotions, and made you feel better even if it was only for a few short moments. I decided to try it out.

I used the razor I shaved with to make the first cut. It felt more than wonderful. I felt released for a short moment in time. The stinging on my wrist hid the pain in my heart. When the pain of the first cut subsided, I grabbed a pair of small nail scissors to see if it would cause an even more intense pain.

It did, but for only a few short moments until I cut again. I left cuts on my left wrist and right hip.

One of my friends told me that she had cut once on their hip and that it left an intense pain because the skin was thinner there. I wanted to experience that. I wanted to feel something, anything.

That was one of the lowest points in my life. I surface cut myself at least fifteen times that night and three more the next morning.

Looking back at that night and the scars on my wrist, I can't believe that I did it. I can't believe that it was really me who left those marks on my skin. But is was.

I almost feel like laughing at myself. The reason I cut was no where near the drastic reasons other girls cut. But I don't regret anything. You can only learn from your mistakes.

I don't hide my scars. I don't wear bracelets to cover up the consequences of that night. Ask me if I ever cut and I'll show you my wrist.

I'm not ashamed of having once been a cutter. Everyone does things that are considered illogical in other people's eyes.

I've had people ask me why I did it. They tell me that I was dumb for hurting myself like that and that cutting doesn't solve anything. They are right.

Even though it felt good when I did it, cutting got me nowhere. It didn't fix my problems. It didn't make everything go away. That small moment in time did nothing to help me in the long run.

My path of recovery had to do with a pen and paper. I turned to writing poetry and blogging in order to release my emotions. I even talked about my problems. That helped the most. Having the opportunity to speak about your emotions really helps and just having someone listen to you really makes a difference.

I still face problems with my sister, but that's life. Problems between my step dad and I have cooled down somewhat also. I started behaving differently and became more respectful in order to have more freedom.

Will I ever cut again? There is a possibility. I'm not promising that I am 100 percent cured, but I do know that whatever happens, I will get through it.

For those who cut, I understand. I know how it feels to inflict pain on yourself in hopes of hiding away reality. Just know, that it doesn't help. The pain will stay there until you deal with it face first and strong willed.

There are ways to move past self mutilation. Treatments are out there. Don't be afraid to try them. You don't have to go through this alone.