To whom ever it may concern.

I cut. Not a lot, and not very bad- but cutting is still cutting. There are two main reasons for why I cut. The first is because I constantly feel like I've done things wrong. I feel like I make too many mistakes, and when I make a mistake, I dwell on it until my brain hurts, and I literally get a headache. I feel like I am stupid, that I shouldn't be on this planet anymore. I use cutting as self punishment. This started when I was around the age of 14. It didn't start with cutting, but with slapping or pinching myself. Now it's gotten to the point where sometimes, I feel so bad about myself, I won't eat. I'll skip lunch, or not eat snack.

The second reason, is my mom. She can be so angry- especially with just the littlest things. A good example of this happened the other day. I asked my mom if I could make instant pudding. She said, “No. Its too late.” so, I, trying to be funny, said, “But it's instant!” and she replied by snapping back at me “NO! It's almost 9:30, and you still need to take a shower.” I was hungry, but I was too scared to eat, so I showered, and in the shower I cut, because I felt so small, and horrible, and like I wasn't worth anything at all- especially to my mom.

My cutting started out in ninth grade pretty slow. I first tried to use a pair of scissors on my thumb. It kinda hurt, but it didn't bleed. It was truly a failure. It was quite awhile later when I tried something different. This time I used my fingernails. Now, I know your probably thinking “Hahaha, yea right. You probably didn't do hardly anything!” But, that's where you are wrong. I would scratch myself until I bled. I would do this once every couple of months, and I've ended up with at least five scars from it. I was doing this during both my ninth and tenth grade years. By the end of tenth grade I started using a razor. It was quicker, and was less noticeable. Right now, in eleventh grade, I will cut, still using my razor, and then put shampoo on it to make it hurt. It doesn't hurt that bad- just enough to sting.

Now, you might be asking yourself how on earth could all this happen to a pretty average girl. Well, in my own opinion, this all started in my eighth grade year. It started out well, I had math class with 4 or 5 other girls. These girls were nice, we laughed a lot, and had lots of fun. Until sometime in the middle of the school year. There was one girl, who really just seemed like she wanted everyone in our little group to love her, and everyone did. Everyone wanted her to like them. She started to not like me. There was one day, where the other girls in my math class all sat at a smaller table and told me there wasn't any room. I thought it was weird, but I didn't really think anything of it. Long story short, at one point, I accidentally dissed one of the girls, and it seemed like they got over it, but I guess they didn't. About a week later, I was asked to find a different lunch table- luckily I had other friends. The last section of this story, took place on the last day of school. The girl who started all of this, came up to me, handed me her yearbook, so I handed her mine, and we signed each others yearbooks and she says “No hard feelings, right?” I first thought that it wasn't me- it was her. I didn't do anything wrong, but then as I kept thinking about it month after month, it seemed that, in fact I did do everything wrong. This was the start of dwelling, and the start of putting myself down.

This final story, is the best of them all. It took place just over a month ago. Without going in to detail about why, I will just say that I wanted to cut. I was in a bad place, and I had to go shower. I walked into that shower with every intention of cutting. I was going to cut. The night before this, I had taken a bath. Now, I know you're asking, “Who cares?!” but it is actually a very important detail. I had recently found my rubber ducky, and decided to have him float around while I took a bath. So, when I walked into the shower, wanting to cut, I saw my little rubber ducky sitting there, he looked at me, and I looked at him. As soon as I looked at him, I knew that he was put was there because of God. God was telling me to stop cutting. Because of that ducky (now named Fabio) I have stopped cutting, and I have really opened my life to God, and Jesus. I feel better than ever, and I am loving life.

Although I have stopped cutting, it has not been easy to keep it that way. I have added a reason for why I cut, and that is that I am addicted. I am addicted to the pain and seeing my own blood. I want to cut for no reason. Often times I need to text my boyfriend and talk before and after I shower. The good news is that even though I am addicted, I have not given in at all since my little Fabio stopped me from cutting, and I plan to keep it that way.

~Ailex