Author: Kayley PM
My experiences with anorexia and self injury. Rated PG13 for angst. Anyway, it would mean a lot to me if you r&r because it took a lot for me to write this and post it on a public webpage. Thanks.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Drama - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,641 - Reviews: 37 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 05-02-02 - Published: 05-12-01 - id: 282017
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Ok, by now some of you might have read my poems on anorexia and self mutilation and are wondering, what's with this girl? Is that the only thing she can write about? Well, I guess I write about that stuff because that's what I can relate to. I've been a cutter for 3 years, starting in 7th grade, and have been an on and off anorexic/bulimic also since 7th grade. I thought I was over my anorexia but I guess I'm not because lately I've been starving myself again and also throwing up. Anyway, I want to tell my story because some person may be out there thinking they're alone and no one understands them, like I was 3 years ago. Well, maybe that person is reading this now and maybe they'll know I understand and they will get the help they need. I wish I had realized that sooner and gotten help before I did. Anyway….
My story starts 3 years ago, when I was 12. I had just gotten in a fight with my brother and being the immature brat I was at the age of 12, I scratched him on the arm. He told my parents, who yelled at me, "How could you do something like that? He's your brother!" So I did the only thing I could think of at the time; I scratched myself, hard, on the arm. It started to bleed and I threw my arm in my parents' face, saying, "Look, I'm sorry, I scratched myself too, now can you forgive me?"
Needless to say, that just got them more mad at me, thinking I had done it for attention (I didn't) and they left me at home while they took the rest of my family, my brother and sister, out to the store.
I stared at the bloody scratch on my arm and sick as this sounds, I felt so much better staring at the blood and concentrating on the pain it brought. So I went into the kitchen and picked up a knife and did the same thing over and over again until I had had enough pain and bleeding to make me feel good enough, like I could forgive myself for fighting with and scratching my brother.
I had never heard of self mutilation before, or cutting, or anything like that. All I knew when I cut myself was that I wasn't trying to kill myself. I had no idea anyone else did what I did, I didn't think I had a problem, I didn't know the rest of my life would be spent trying to get rid of a disease I didn't even know at the time existed. And since I didn't think anyone would find out what I did because it seemed such a crazy thing to do, I wore short sleeves, considering it was almost 80 degrees when I started cutting. My friends were horrified when they saw the scars but I told them it was just my tempermental cat, thinking stupidly that they would believe my lies. Well, obviously, they didn't. And they told guidance that I was cutting myself, even though I had never actually admitted it to anyone.
At the time, I was already seeing a therapist because of my poor grades and inability to concentrate in school, so guidance not only called my parents to inform them of my "problem" but my therapist. I don't remember much after this point, everything's a bit foggy at best. My therapist says that's because it was such a bad year for me but I still wish I remembered.
Well, somehow, I found out all about self mutilation, who did it, how it starts, etc. I searched on webpages trying to find other people who did what I did so I would feel less alone and more understood. I did eventually give up my cutting for a few short months but in that time I started dieting, skipping 2 meals a day, and sometimes going for days without eating.
My friends, who already thought I was cutting myself for attention (yeah right, like I would go through all that shit for attention) noticed my weight loss and how I never ate lunch at school and they blamed my anorexia on the same thing as my cutting, attention. But that didn't stop them from telling my parents who told my therapist and so on.
All these years later, I'm still cutting myself deeper and more often than ever. I'm still throwing up, I'm still dieting. Sometimes I think I'll always be crazy but I know I can't let myself get caught in that kind of thinking. Recently, I lost my best friend of 2 years because she can't deal with my self mutilation anymore. She told me she wouldn't be my friend until I was "less fucked up," and when I tried to tell her about what was wrong that made me cut myself she said, "I'm not your fucking therapist! I can't deal with your problems, I can't deal with anyone's." But it's not like I was even telling her anything that serious. I would occasionally complain about my screwed up parents or about other random things but it wasn't like I was telling her my deepest darkest deadly secrets. She recently told our friend that she just "doesn't give a fuck about me anymore." She hurt me more than she could ever know, and still she won't say one word to me or even give me the decency to tell me if our friendship is over for good.
I'm so grateful to my friend, Brittany, who after my ex bf left me, supported me and helped me get through that and is helping me move on. She's a cutter too and we have so much in common it's scary. She's the only one that understand me and I'm so grateful to have her because I know so many people out there don't have anyone to understand them.
I guess that's my point in telling my story. I hope someone reads this and realizes that someone out there, me, does understand them. Self mutilation and anorexia can wreck your life if you let them. You have to constantly fight the cutter/anorexic thoughts in your mind, don't let them get to you. If you keep fighting them, you'll eventually win. I have for brief periods in my life and the victory of not cutting myself, throwing up, or starving for months is such an amazing feeling. I hope every cutter/anorexic at some time in their life gets to experience that. I know that someday I will if I keep fighting, I hope the same thing for anyone reading this who deals with these two life wrecking diseases. Please feel free to e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org, I'm there for anyone that needs advice, to talk, or just to be understood. Thanks for taking the time to read my story.