3 years ago, i think that is when it started, i met Vinnie. The man who created every single problem that i have today. Him and I had an "instant connection" and we dated for about 7 months, until he happened to meet Katie. Katie was at that time, my best friend. I had known her my entire life and she and i did everything together. Well, Vinnie and Katie seemed to hit it off just great, if you get my drift. They hooked up while me and Vinnie were still dating. I loved Vinnie more than anything in the world and my life was ruined as i found out that he was with my best friend, especially while we were still together. And i could not believe Katie's actions either. I had 2 classes with Katie and unfortunately, she sat next to me in both and all she did was pass me notes and tell me how Vinnie was such a great guy and how she was so glad that they were together and shit like that. Well, things after that didn't go so well.

School work went way down. I used to be a straight A student, my grades were literally F's and i never ever did my homework because i was caught up in the depression. Because of my failing grades, my parents and i were always feuding and my sister and I were never close so we would always fight, especially when i was in my down moods. Being depressed like that even effected me completely with my friends. They would always ask me what's wrong and try to pressure me into telling them and i would flip out saying how i didn't want to say and how they shouldn't pressure me into telling them something i didn't want to. I remember running out of the cafeteria one day at lunch after flipping on a good friend of mine, Rebecca and running to the bathroom to cry, skipping a period and getting a 3 day suspension from school. One night, i really don't know how it happened but i gathered so many sharp things and hid them under my mattress, i had a knife, a razor blade and a shaving razor, i had pins and needles and tacks and even things no one would think of to use, like a CD jewel case corner. And every night i would take 45 minute showers, blasting my music as loud as i could and i would cut myself in there sometimes, so that if hurt so bad i had to scream out in pain, they wouldn't hear me. I would let the cut run in the water so that it would bleed for longer, and i enjoyed seeing myself covered in the red of my blood. After i took a shower, luckily my room was right next to the bathroom so i did not have to travel down a hallway, but i would go into the room, when my skin is extra tender from the scalding hot water, and i would use the knife and the razor to cut myself, and i would bleed uncontrollably and i would actually enjoy it. People always say that when cutters cut themselves that when they do it, the drift away and not know exactly what i was doing, but i knew and i enjoyed it so much, it was like a hobby.

It happened every single day whenever i wanted to and it actually became something i didn't do just because i needed the release, but i did it because i liked it, like people play sports because they like to. My cutting got really serious and i once went to the hospital coming very close to a major artery, but that still didn't freak me out. Then i realized somehow that i did this because i wanted to die, or at least that is what i convinced myself, so being stupid i took tons of prescription pills that were not mine and ones that had warning on the back that said WARNING: Do not take with alcohol. After downing about 20 pills, i went downstairs and downed about a half pint of straight vodka and immediately started vomiting uncontrollably. I was choking and coughing, coughing up blood and i fainted. When i woke up, i was in a hospital getting my stomach pumped and i had to stay there to make sure that i didn't ruin anything in my body.

Luckily i was fine and got to go home the next morning. When i thought about what had happened it kicking in the i cut because it release my problems and made me feel better- and i kicked myself in the ass for trying to kill myself. That was three years ago, and today i still cut myself, trying my hardest to stop, but i cant. I have been in therapy for a long time and we are trying to get my life back on track, but it's still very hard to. Cutting myself has been the way to relieve the stress in my life and has been the way that i always got rid of the pain and i don't know any other way how to. i am not scared of hurting myself seriously, because i know how to deal with that pain, but what i am scared of is that i will cut myself for the rest of my life. It's really hard to hide the scars, because i used to cut EVERYWHERE, including legs, arms, stomach, chest and all other places. I never cut my face though.

My back is completely mutilated, and so are my arms. It got so bad that when i went for a photo shoot for my modeling agency, they made me put concealer all over my body because the scars would show up in the picture, and i have a few modeling pictures that actually show them, regardless of the cover up. Lately, cutting has been picking up after serious progress and its weird. The blood is so much of a release and i know that i want to live, but the pain of the razor hitting and slicing my skin feels so good. ok, so that the story of my crazy fucked up life. email me if you want to at danrsonlygrli@yahoo.com or instant message me at mdlingrl117bex thanks for listening.