I sometimes have a dream where I find myself in an amusement park hall of mirrors. All around me I see my distorted reflection. I can only glance at the images for a short time because each one represents a part of my soul too difficult to handle. Eventually I become trapped inside this ironically named fun house. Frantically I search for the exit. When I don't find it, I smash the glass with my fist. Blood pours down my arm. After what seems like an eternity, I discover the door to the outside really was inside of me. The pain and blood is what brings me back to reality. Somehow the inner turmoil shown in the hall of mirrors can only be handled by releasing the pain by hurting myself.

Five years ago I watched a NBC "Dateline" segment on self-injury. The date was October 26 1998. I think the program was entitled 'Through the Looking Glass' or something like that. I had a personal interest in the subject as I was a self-injurer myself. Little did I know how close to home this show would hit.

Living here in rural western New York State -specifically Allegany County - I felt there was no one out there who knew how awful things can happen inside that cause our ain to manifest itself in hideous self-injury or mutilation. How wrong I was. The 'Dateline' show began by introducing the central figure...a young college student from Jamestown, NY named Jamie Mathews.

Hey, I know Jamestown. It's not too far away from where I live. It's the Land of Lucy and the 10,000 Maniacs (stigmatizing phrase not intended here readers). My interest grew. Then they switched to a segment taken of Jamie at the University she was attending: Houghton College. Now this place I know! It's in Allegany County, close to home. I couldn't believe NBC came to our little neck of the woods to film a show, let alone one about self-injury. What was going on here? Synchronicity? Pure coincidence?

When she spoke of the inner turmoil and pain that caused her 'secret cutting' I knew what she meant. She was depressed. Isolated. Felt no one would understand. This could have been me speaking here folks. I started to decompensate a bit at this point and felt incredibly sad for Jamie. I knew her pain. I was in a daze. Could not believe how much this was like my life.

OK, I started self-injuring for different reasons. I have OCD and bad anxiety accompanied with dark periods of depression. On and off throughout my life the clouds were never completely gone. I coped as best as I could. Later things got much worse and I began a long period on therapy and medication treatment. I don't remember the first time I cut myself. I couldn't tell you what the 'trigger' was. All I know is that it felt good. To bring the pain inside to the surface served as a visual reminder of what I was feeling. The scars validated what I was going through. When I doubted my version of reality all I had to do was look at my arm and see the tracks of past injury. This was proof enough. Why I needed to do this still escapes me for the most part.

Jamie was going to school in my area, feeling alone and isolated. Her family could find no one who knew of disorder. This is where my apology comes in. See, at this time I was involved in our county's Mental Health Association. I wanted to help people and let them know they were not alone, that someone understood. Being an obsessive reader I knew of self-injury and its effects. Hearing Jamie's story and knowing we shared the same coping mechanism and geographical area made me feel as if I let her down. Logically, I know this is false. Yet, being a member of our MHA and an active mental health volunteer/consumer I couldn't help but wonder how things might have been if our paths had crossed. Granted, I was not a college sophomore at this time. Being much older, I can't say whether I would have been any help. Still, I'm haunted by the possibilities and even more so during the next few years for reasons I'll disclose.

A few years later I found myself desperately trying to gain some self-respect and level of recovery by working part-time. Years had passed since I had an actual job. My self-esteem was almost non-existent. The opportunity to help out a friend during the summer at a construction job seemed like a safe way to re-enter the 'real world.' This is where the shadows of the past, of Jamie's college life came back to me. See, my friend was building new student housing at a nearby university. You guessed it, Houghton College.

What was going on here? I kept thinking about Jamie and wondered how she was doing? Was she still self-injuring or had she reached an inner peace I still sought? I had my moments of deep despair when I would self-injure, even more so than before. I managed to work and enjoyed the chance to be myself again. Still....there was the thought of Jamie and how I let her down.

I resigned a few years back from the presidency of our Mental Health Association, partly out of a feeling of inadequacy and self-doubt. There was so much to be done. So much to tell society about mental health. I was overwhelmed by the stories I heard from people who suffered from mental illness. And Darren wasn't doing too well himself. I needed to concentrate on helping myself before I could help others. My departure still makes me ashamed, however illogical this may be.

That was two years ago. Since then I've done some things to myself I'd rather not discuss here because unless you've been there, you just won't understand.I'm doing better now. Since December 2002 I've been working for our county as their Consumer Services Representative/Ombudsman. Self-injury is now a thing of the past. I still have the urges, but have found new hope and better coping strategies. I pray to God that Jamie is well. Perhaps she has found inner peace, too. I'm so sorry Jamie for what you went through. My mental and inner scars will always be with me, just as is the memory of someone who touched my life without even realizing it. Please forgive me. Please let me forgive myself. And to all who self-injure, forgive yourself because each of you deserves it.