Tell me about "Cutting", please...

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Update: It turns out that my friends' daughter has a bipolar disorder, and that she is being treated and counseled (along with her family).

She's gonna be alright.

Thanks to all for your input!




(PS: Special thanks to those who PM'ed me. I know how hard it was to unload to a stranger, and I will honor your need for privacy.)

Long story, so I share how this works for me.

I have cutt myself out of suicidal intent, but for practice. I still don't have the nerve to go deep. I'm really a hitter, and haven't broken anything really bad yet, because my body took it well. It's takeing a toll on my brain funcions though. I just got over my last self inflicted concusion yesturday, and learned that I shouldn't take asprin, but coffie actualy helped some how.

It started long before it started. I was bullied all the way through public school and the 8th grade. I was also horribly socialy issolated from my peers while being around them at the same time. I had personal traits that held me back there to blame for alot of that, but also the fact that my peers were a rough group. Even if I had social skills, talking to most of them would have just thrown me into more hurt.

I was in homeschooling, where my emotions weren't botteling up inside me for personal safety anymore, but it was comeing out onto my family. I stood up to a one of my ex school bullies, and told him "Shut up and leave me alone for once!" only to find my Father defending him loudly in the middle of the store. Well, that was the trigger right there. His mouth! I wasn't allowed to make the slightest error without him getting pissey! Meanwhile, my sister could say anything rude to my very face, and he wouldn't give her one single glare at the time. (She had a little taste of what it feels like getting that from him recently.)

I would later make a mistake, and punch my right thigh, because there was nowhere else to put my frustrated fist at the time. Of course, my Father prefered to be a total ASS BAG, and scream like hell in my face about how I'm such a stupid little b***h, and everytime I would get frustrated and hit myself. Then the cycle continued. I wasn't allowed for a long time now to express myself in certain ways to my own family. They have countless times acted like I was a whiney cry baby, and sometimes when I wasn't even stressed, I get chewed out by BOTH parents!

I had this bruise just above my right knee cap that wouldn't go away for months, because I kept punishing "the stupid ass hole named Lienda". Mistakes make people "rude butt holes" in my world see, despite the fact nature herself can do that! It's the way everyone acts consistantly. Make a mistake, get the verbal claw. Avoid most of that meanie claw by "takeing control" and feeding my inner abuser. (which happens to be much worse than parents I'm actualy fortunate to have had.) Unfortunatly for my skins, that actualy works as intended. Angry adult comes out in private, and beats down the "naughty child"! Less chances for mistakes, right?

It's moved to my arms and head, and away from my leg. I've had bruises on my jaw, cheek bones, and both arms. (Dad slapped me so softly once, he couldn't have broken tissue paper. He pretended he was mad enough to want to twist my arm. Both of these times, he was yelling at me and ripping me past my limits. Didn't diserve it either.) Well, when I worked as a Cashier. I once had answered a simple question to a guy about where to get his ticket stamped. It wasn't my job to tell him, and I didn't know squat about the details. All I knew is a certain stamp was let out without charges. Completly not my fault, but I was punished and punished for his crap! He just instantly got furious at me for no reason!

He stormed off, and I said "Why are you mad? What did I do?" he then got even madder at me. I thought "What the #%$ is your problem?! I told you where the office is!" Later on, he brought a friend of his, so he could stand a far off, talk about what a horrible person I was (God KNOWS WHY?!), and his friend scowled and gave me the finger! I repeated "What did I ever do to you? What the hell?!" My boss took me upstairs the next day and blamed me with a lecture about how I am screwed up, and need some stupid physiciatrist. I felt so offended, because it was all blame and "fix her so she's how we want" based! Never explaining what my fault was at all! I cried, and she took that as some stupid 'admitance of my guilt'! I cried because I was getting discaplined for no dam reason, and she called me "the agressor" to my face! Yeah, telling me I'm a agressive b***h to people, and at the same time telling ME how I'm so messed up and need to be corrected with drugs or something, without evidence! I HATE THAT!

Shortly after, I had a customer that was horrificaly difficult, and again for reasons beyond my control, I was chewed out and chewed out! No matter how many times a certain brainless c**t in one business got told, she would never be honest with her customers, lie to them, and tell them the ticket costed far less than it did. I have taken SO much crap because of her! Well, Mr. important decided he would scribble his signature all over the ticket. He pulled wool over my eyes counltess times, and I hated him for that. He was also a return custumer of little Miss Bitch-lies. I charged him, and he would whine and groan again. He called me a thief, which to me is a horrible insult, and they knew it.

This was around a time where I was told by my boss that customers had to hand in a ticket without clumped and screwed up sticker stamps, because they very much got stuck in the machine that needed to read it. Naturaly, the most sticker users I had to deal with came around that time instead of any other. One guy handed me a stamp in a nice tight clump, and expected me to take his word for it that there were two of them. I said "No". And made him pay. This women comes along with a ticket from, ta da the big fat liar, and she of course didn't have enough to pay for it, which is why we had slips to fill out!

She chewed me out, of course. When she left, the guy behind her, knowing nothing, decides that HE is going to chew me out, despite his transaction going smoothly. Well, later miss fat liar herself comes along with a ticket. I put it through, charge accordingly and she just had this superior attitude the whole time, rolling her eyes, sighing, calling me an offending thief name, and after I handed the reciete I get... "You're stupid!"

What is it about me that so many people have to drive me as far past my limits as possible?! Yes, my brain chemicles were going berzerk! I felt insane! I couldn't focus another minute, let alone THINK, and not being able to think.. there goes the phsyco monstrocity in my head again! "Bad girl! Bad girl!" Just asinine, I tell you. 'takes a breath' I told the security I needed an emergancy potty break. Yurp! Went into the bathroom feeling such extreme stress, my mind couldn't barely rationalise anything.

I took the cell phone, and bashed my arm really hard while it was against the brick wall. Punched my leg, cried (of course), and put some fine tooth marks into the phone. I punched myself in the jaw several times, thinking "WHY ME!?" Lastly, I took off the battery lid, and slashed that across the lower arms where my veing is often visible. (One of the feet isn't on the lid anymore.) It took about 4-8 minutes for my brain to feel completly settled and focused on a normal level. I had a strange joint like pop sounds in the center of my arm, for a short while after the bruise left my arm again. A pill might take alot longer, so on one end I have some wierd split personalities, and the other I have the need for balanced brain chemistry. Uck!

Never Mind.. (Care to note my sig. Fnerd?)

This started for me when I was about 14/15 years old. I think it came from a combination of issues, but the overriding emotion when I did it was rage...extreme rage, thus for me, it was not a controlled thing at all as it seems to be with some. I literally was so angry and full of hatred for myself, most likely due to abuse when younger, and also due to a sense of being totally misunderstood by my family. I don't cut anymore, but I do punch myself as a response to feelings of self loathing, frustration, hurt and anger, when I feel I have done something wrong, failed, or when someone else has said something that leaves me feeling very bad, and I cannot express it to them or let them know.