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      My Cutting Story

     


I used to be able to cry my pain out. But then there came the time when I could not cry anymore. I was out of tears. So I tried to do something far worse. I tried to cut.



The first time was unsuccessful. My knife was dull and I was to much of a wimp to actually press the blade down hard enough to slice the flesh open. So all I succeeded in doing was scratching my leg up.



One night I wanted to cut so bad. So I found a piece of glass on the side of the road. That was the first time I actually made myself bleed. I still have the scar from that.



The cutting started as a way to release the emotional pain built up in me. But at the same time, it was an attention seeker. And then eventually, I did it mostly just for the attention.



I only ever cut myself once. The other times I would just scratch myself up. One night I took a needle or safety pin and had at my stomach. I did that twice. My stomach was covered in red scratches.



I have stopped doing that now, but I still have the scars on my stomach. And I hope they stay. It is now my dream to help people who cut and self harm. My scars are the proof that I was once in the same position they are in.



I want to show them that there is hope. I want to show them the One who can set them free from the addiction of self harm.

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