I started cutting when I was 11 years old. I cut because its a way for me to release all my stress. The stress of being outcast from the "popular" kids, and all the pain at home. It feels real good to cut, its like the only pain I can control. Its like when I see the blood that blood running down my arm it feels like I won this battle and they can't make me feel bad, until they do it again. I wish everyday that these people realize the pain they cause and the consequences it leads to.

My problems aren't only at school though, my parents are a big part of it. But don't get me wrong, me and my mom are real close, but its just sometimes we get in arguments and it rips a hole in me every time. I hate to fight with her.

Other times when I get mad and there's no way I can get away, I'll get mad right then and I'll punch holes in the wall right next to me. That feels great at the time to. But the aftermath is what hurts. I bruise up and cut my knuckles all the time.

I've been to therapy and only because the school counselor saw my arm when passing me by. I think all therapist don't know anything, they don't no what goes through our minds when this goes on. They have no idea how we feel, all they say is just try to stop, its better for you. But I think they all are talking out of their butts.

I've always said, "The cutting isn't the bad part....The aftermath is..."