A Cutter's Story

The Dirty C Word & a Cutter's Mind

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive" -Iris, Goo Goo Dolls

Some days you wake up happy and refreshed and ready to start the day, other days you wake up and drag your feet and feel like shit. Today was the latter, tonight was even worse. I have cried 3 times tonight alone and I have no one to talk to. I'm scared. I'm scared when volleyball starts up again I will get caught with cuts and get thrown in a hospital. I'm scared I'm going to die from cancer.

The last one sounds odd; why should I worry so much about cancer? I'm only 15.... but the thing is so many people have died of it, people I love and people I never got the chance to love and I don't know how to process it. I was watching "Brothers & Sisters" earlier and one of the characters finds out she has cancer and she tries to cope, but its hard. That was the cause of breakdown #3. My grandmother died September 19, 2012 from leukemia, after she put it and breast cancer into remission. I never got to say goodbye.... many great uncles of mine have died from that dirty "c" word as well. My aunt died at 32 from leukemia. Many cousins have had it as well and I'm so nervous I'm next. If I do get it soon, maybe I just won't do treatment.

I'm tired of breathing. I am tired of my heart working. I am tired of being abused. Its sad, this justice system is so messed up. Family services has been to my house twice. Both times the said we weren't abused, only because I'm a good liar. I lied because I don't want to lose my daddy. He is my whole world, my rock, my solid ground. Both my brothers claimed he abused us, but it wasn't him. My mom did, my brothers did, sometimes my sister, but not my daddy. He is such an amazing person, a hard worker and a good person. I love him to the moon and back.

Cutting... its so easy. Or it seems like it should be. Honestly, its a constant fight. Its a pain. You have to convince yourself you want to ruin your skin. Then, you have to actually do it; there's a burn and sting and if you are really desperate for pain, you put salt or lemon juice or shampoo into your cuts. Next, you have to stop the bleeding and prevent it from showing through your clothing. That's not always easy, depending on how deep the cut it and where it is located. Then you have to lie. That becomes easier, keeping a straight face at least, but the guilt from lying. That's a whole different story. You have to keep up with your lies and ignore your conscious. You tell yourself just or more but that's a lie too. Cutting is a problem. A big big big problem.

I have several friends that cut. They do it for multiple reasons. Melanie, for example, cuts because her mom died and her dad has problems and her grandparents fight and her twin brothers are more pressure than she can deal with. Kirsten cuts because she gets stressed out, worries to much and causes herself major anxiety. Megan cuts for the same reason I do. She was molested. Hers just recently ended, but she got justice. He's in jail now and has to register as a sex offender. I don't get the justice. I go to sleep every night with a monster just a wall away. Just 1 wall. That's not enough to hold him back. That's not enough to stop him. He still creeps me out. That'd why my deadbolt is locked if I'm asleep or changing or mad or sad or want to be alone. He is a disgusting animal. One day he hid in my closet when I went downstairs. I came back up and was about to change, I had locked my door and everything(this was before I had a deadbolt) when I heard him move in my closet. The doors are shutter-like and slide open, so he easily could have watched me change. He was so close to see me naked. My god, the thought bothers me. I told my parents, who just told him to stay out of my room.

One time, with the other brother, I was joking around and took something, idk what it was, like a phone or something and hid it. He tried to grab it from me so I ran to my room and jumped on my bed and put it in my shirt. He put his hand in my shirt and tried to pull it out. I told my parents about that, they didn't care. He told them I was lying he wouldn't do that and they believed him.

When I was 7.... Christian performed oral on me. He would take off my pants and put me and the end of my bed and lick me. I hated it. Dan sat there and played with my boobs and touched me and I hated it. After they left my room I would go to the bathroom and cry and wash myself. I knew I couldn't shower without my mom questioning it so I would take wash rags and clean myself. Every second of my childhood I hated. Every. Single. Second.

After we moved to Alabama, I was about 12, Christian, Dan, and I were walking through the woods by the house. It was snowing and we were looking at all of it and the small streams that had frozen over. We acted like we were ice skating. Christian made Dan leave us alone for a minute. As soon as Dan was out of earshot, he asked if I would do what I used to do with him. He asked me to have sex with him again. I refused and he bugged me for like a month about it. He wouldn't stop and one day he asked while we were cleaning the kitchen. My sister, Taylor, asked if he asked about having sex with me. I looked her dead in the eye and said "no." When I turned away I had a tear in my eye. I went to the bathroom and cried.

Not much longer after that, I cut myself for the first time. I never knew how hard it was to cut until then. After that I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. I hid my legs from everyone, and no one found out. I told Melanie, and after I got close to Kirsten I told her, too. I didn't know how bad it got until I couldn't stop even when I wanted to. Melanie was 6 months clean, I was 3 weeks. Then I broke it. That cycle continued. The longest I've ever been without cutting sense I started is 3 months. This year, its been 64 days...

I starting keeping up with my cutting, starting in January 2013. I cut about twice a week then. My legs were cut sideways, but when I ran out of room on my favorite leg, I cut it down, over the other cuts. I had a grid like pattern by the end of the night. The next day I put and "X" through that. At school, changing, I went to the other side of the locker room away from everyone to change. I play volleyball and all athletes have a different locker room with bigger lockers. There was usually only 10 people in there max and its a pretty big room. Melanie could see the cuts from the other side of the room though, she checked daily to see if I had cut again. I stopped though, after Kirsten's boyfriend told a teacher and the counselor. They called my mom and she made me show her and she gasped when she saw them. I lied and said I did it 1 time only. She asked if it was my turn in a hospital because all my siblings went. I ,of course, said no.

I stopped for 64 days. All of March and February I stayed clean. In April I cut twice, same story with May and June. July just started, and I'm proud to say 10 days in and I'm still cut free. For now. The itch is building up. The twitch in my hand, the constant voice in my hand. All I want to do it cut and bleed and remind myself I'm alive. But I can't. I can't because of volleyball, because of wearing shorts. Because my mom made me buy a bikini to swim in and I have no safe place to cut. I cut on the crease in my leg, the one by my hips, but that's not safe either.

•••••

I tried to make this long. God, writing this killed me. I have never told anyone what happened. I only said I was molested. Now its out there for the whole world to see. I will probably doubt this for the next month.

Anywho, volleyball started yesterday, at least workouts did, so that's 2 hours 2 days a week for the rest of summer I'll be busy. That means longer times between chapters.... sorry.

So I check every so often how many reads I have, and when I saw this has 21 reads I did a double take. The last time I checked it was 12. That means a lot, y'all don't even know.

Tell me anything that needs editing and vote, comment, follow. Read my other story please. Hugs and kisses. -K