Confessions of an Ex-cutter ( Short Story )

-------------------------------

Everything has a reason; why it existed in the first place, why it's still existing, and why it ended.

Everything has a reason, huh? Then how about my life? What is the reason for my existence?

School's f*cked up, home's f*cked up, everything's f*cked up; I'm f*cked up.

A lot of people may think that I'm exagerrating, that I'm just some f*cked up attention seeker.

Attention seeker, huh? I didn't know these scars would make me seem famous, nor seem like I was asking for it. These scars remind me of the pain I've been through, and somehow, it also reminds me of how remotely sane I am. 

I wasn't really like this. I used to be cheerful, happy, easy-going, and all that...

But society actually changed me.  

Have you ever been laughed at for crying in public? Have you ever been called an attention-seeker for being open with your emotions? Have you ever trusted someone so much that it killed you inside when they betrayed you?

At least 80% of the people on Earth have experienced all these. 

Ever heard of self-harm? Yes? No? I'm guessing, yes. It's not actually something new to our ears. Every single one of us; kids that have had their eyes opened to reality, are not new to this sort of stuff. We hear it on the radio, and see it on tv. So yeah, we can actually blame the media for the increasing number of incidents regarding self-harm.

What causes this sort of things? It varies, actually. 

Like me, I also have my reasons, it's a long story though.

Let's just put it this way, someone pushed me into doing it. 

I fell in love with this guy. I used to treat him like my everything.

I was so naive, I know. You see, I'd treat him every recess, cry like a baby when he treats me like sh*t, which is btw almost everyday. To cut a long story short, I really fell head over heels for a heartless guy, okay?

You can't really blame me, though. He was my first boyfriend. 

He treated me coldy, and never really paid attention to me that much, but you know what?

I still loved him with every piece of me. Friends would tell me to break-up with him, but I never listened. I was, how should I say this? Hmm. I was blinded by my love for the guy.

We fought almost everyday. I died a little inside everytime it would happen.

I even started crying in public.

I was making a total fool out of myself. 

People started to talk. 

But it didn't stop me. 

People made fun of me. They said I was stupid for doing such things, for feeling such feeling.

They started calling me names behind my back. Society was being mean to me. 

Haven't I had enough? 

You shouldn't make fun of other people's struggles. 

It may seem insignificant to you, but it means everything to them.

You don't know how it feels, you know. Trying to tell yourself to forget about that person each and everyday but  never suceeding. 

I wanted to stop every feeling I had for him.  

One day, I've actually had enough. Just crying my heart out wasn't enough anymore.

I needed to release the extreme load of stress I was feeling. 

Then I saw a pair of scissors on top of my table. I locked the door, and it started.

I started cutting my wrist. That was the start of it. It wasn't that bad, at first.

After a while, just a slight cut wasn't enough anymore. 

We had a fight at school. I couldn't bring myself to stop crying.

A lot of friends came to comfort me, but I'd just tell them to piss off.

I was actually releasing my stress towards the people who really care about me.

It made my depression even worse. I fixed myself, rested my eyes, and went to a store near our building.

I bought a blade, went inside a vacant room in our building, and started cutting again.

The wounds were actually worse. They were deeper.

One of my best friends entered the room and saw me. I was shocked, but I ignored him.

The sudden gush of blood freaked me out, so I ran to the nearest restroom. My friend ran after me. He was really worried about me. He knew about the cutting thing, he even tried to talk me out of it. But nothing, no one, could stop me.

The blood; it made me dizzy. I found myself passing out outside the restroom.

Some friends found me. They helped me up, and took care of me.

I decided to stop after that incident. 

I though of ways to stop myself from getting stressed or depressed.

I would do everything to please him. Treat him better, lend him money, give him cellphone load; everything. Things actually went well, after.

I was really stupid that time.

The only thing that could stop me from cutting, was to actually avoid stress.

Prevention is better than cure, that's what they all say, yeah?

But after some time, I actually got tired of it.

I realized how stupid I was. It took me 4 years to realize that though.

But I did it, I broke up with him.

After some months, I fell in love again.

I decided to trust someone, again.

Up until now, he still treats me like I'm the only girl for him.

I love him to death. I haven't cut my wrist eversince,

I realized how stupid I was, and I actually learned how to be stronger.

Me and self-harm never met, again.