Ocean full of Secrets

Part I_18

15th of March 2014

The first time I cut I felt euphoric, liberated even, on top of the world. Now it's simply become a routine. A habit.

I come home from school or wherever I've been instead, take off my shoes, go to my room, open my little wooden treasure box with the engraved elephant that mum bought me in a 3rd world shop during my India-Phase, take out a clean razor blade and cut. Right now I'm writing with the right hand and simultaneously drawing red lines on my thigh with the left. Sometimes I write words as well. Failure. Liar. Monster. Disgusting, right?

And even though I know that and I'm crept out myself I still can't stop. It used to be the way that every time the blade touched my skin all feelings of despair and shame, of self-hatred and disgust would vanish and be replaced by a certain calmness and satisfaction and maybe even a little pride, knowing that I was at least still able to hurt myself, if nothing else. Not this time though. Not anymore. I think it's getting worse. Once I suddenly stopped dead while the blood was dripping off my leg, leaving almost certainly irremovable stains on my light blue bed sheets. It was as if I was watching myself from far away as I was ruining my body and I was horrified. "What was I thinking?" Nothing. Nothing at all.

In that instant everything that had felt like in film before suddenly became utterly real and for the first time I became aware of the consequences. The scars were going to remain visible even long after all the feelings had faded. Maybe even forever. What if someone found out? Nick and Saki for example? Or my teachers? The other kids at school? Oliver? Neil?

But I didn't want to think about it any further and so I ignored the increasing feelings of disgust and horror and simply did what I did best: Cut.

I knew all these feelings probably wouldn't magically disappear anymore, I had gone far beyond that point, but I was hoping they'd at least quieten down a bit. They did not, however, and so I had to continue until the blood throbbing in my ears drowned out the voices in my head. I really didn't know why or what for, I only knew that I had to.

I never thought it was going to be this addictive... self-harm. Yesterday I told myself I wouldn't cut again until Monday. It's Saturday and by now I had to go and get new tissues twice already. I don't know where exactly I went wrong. I'm so sorry. I never thought I'd end up like this. And I don't think I can do this much longer.

Yours,

Cassie