i started cutting myself when i was really little, 7 years old or so. it just felt like the natural way to punish myself, or to let out my feelings. i've endured various traumatic experiences, i've been diagnosed with various disorders, etc etc. when i acquired motivation to stop cutting myself, though, i tried to see it as a personal battle of inner strength, rather than an attempt to deal with the psychological results of trauma or what-have-you.
the longest i've gone without cutting myself lately, was sometime last year, when i didn't cut for 63 days. as of now, i haven't cut myself since 9 april. every time i relapse and have to start counting from day one again, i keep telling myself, "this time i'll beat the record. maybe i'll never need to draw another red teardrop on my calendar again!"
but it's a cycle that keeps repeating itself. i've not been able to go that long without cutting myself again. i try very hard. but i always fail. i don't want to fail anymore. i look at my body and i feel sad. i have visible scars up and down my forearms, and on my wrists. up and down both of my legs too. and the worst, always hidden by my clothing, is my left hip/thigh. the entire expanse is covered by a thick web of scarlines, interspersed by welts of scar tissue from when i cut very very very deep.
i want to take care of my body. i want to stop destroying myself. so far, it's been a defense-mechanism, it's been a method of survival, but i've reached a point in my life where 'self-destruction for the sake of survival' seems like an unnecessary paradox.
so many people tell me that i'm strong. i've even been told that i'm one of the strongest people they've known. but that doesn't mean anything to me, because if i were strong in my own eyes, then i'd be able to overcome the urge to drag a razor through my skin, because i know i don't WANT to do it.
now, i'm sitting here late at night, feeling overwhelmed by various things in my life, feeling disappointed, feeling like i could be doing much better at everything. so i'm writing this, in hopes that writing ABOUT cutting will satiate the urge, and i end up actually doing it. i don't know if it will work, to write to a nebulous open forum like this. in the past, it's helped me a great deal to write to my friend des, but even though he's always there for me and he wants to help me, i feel guilty continually needing to turn to him. i don't want to drain his energy, i don't want to keep disappointing him and reminding him that there's no end in sight to my struggle.