AN I know some one who hurts herself. And she wrote this, and gave it to me. She asked me post it. So people can "See inside the mind of the insane."

So here it is.

The Cutter

People ask me why I do it.

Ask me why I hurt myself.

Ask if I feel pain or if I’m too insane to notice.

I tell them it’s because it makes me feel alive.

It makes me feel in control.

But I don’t think that’s true.

I found that reason on a support website for self-mutilators.

I say I don’t think it’s true, because it might be, and I don’t know.

My life gets hectic, chaotic.

And I hurt myself when I start to get lost.

When I start to go insane.

The pain brings me back.

Seeing the blood pool makes me focus.

The pulse of the torn skin reminds me that I am alive.

It’s like a high, a calming one.

A good way to describe it is someone addicted to morphine.

They feel sick without it.

In pain.

But when they take the drug, they calm down, they return to normal.

That’s how I am.

Only I’ve never had morphine.

I hurt myself.

People try to make me stop.

They’re people I love, so even though I don’t want to, I try.

It hurts.

Not hurting myself.

Not having my drug.

It hurts worse than when I do hurt myself.

Cause when I hurt myself, I am in control.

I can decide just how hard to push, just how much blood to draw, exactly where to leave the scar.

But when I stop…

I lose control.

I can’t decide anything.

It’s all decided for me, by someone else or by fate.

They even decide for me to stop.

But I don’t want to stop.

So I do it again.

And I don’t tell.

And they think I’ve stopped.

But I haven’t.

I still hurt myself.

And I do feel the pain,

I’m just too insane to care.