Random thoughts

Cat scratch

I finally understand why people cut themselves. I've never cut myself, but I see why people do.

I'm not talking about people who cut for attention. That I always understood. They just want people to notice them... I mean the people that do it because it's necessary. It's not stupid or crazy or because they don't know what they're doing. Not anything like that, like what I used to think.

When, inside of you, there's too much emotion, too many battles raging on unchecked with nowhere to go because they're being bottled up, you can't deal with it anymore. Maybe you're thinking "Whatever, I've been there, done that, it's not that bad". But you're wrong. Then you haven't been there. I also thought I had been through it, but I was wrong. So wrong.

There's this pressure that builds up, builds up until you can't take it anymore. Then the urge to tear, scratch, cut, maim, rip, scream, kill comes. It just takes over. You need a release. But you aren't crazy, you still know what you're doing. So you don't try to hurt or kill your dog, cat, bird, fish, sister, brother, mother, father... because you know that you couldn't do it - that it would be wrong. You're not a psychopath. The only other option is yourself. It's your body - nothing that you do to it will affect anyone else.

No one who hasn't done it knows the satisfaction of digging your nails into your face.. thighs.. neck, then drawing them across your tear-splattered arms. Once you've started it's really hard to stop. An animal-like frenzy consumes you. You scratch and tear at your arms and legs, bite yourself wherever you can reach, hit and cry and wish for everything to go away. It's a desperation that only pain can sooth.

Some just use tools to help them get the pain that they need. Getting a nail and pushing it into your skin.. or twisting rope so tight it stops the blood flow.. or slitting your wrist, thigh or arm with a knife. I see how they manage it. If a knife had been close by I might have used it. It seems so hard to believe I'd do it now, but then it didn't seem crazy. It seemed totally logical, like it was a normal thing to do.

I guess it would be easier to do if it was a quiet desperation. If you were so gone and out of it that the cut was like an opening to let the emotions pour out from. I can imagine sitting somewhere, holding a stained knife while I watch the blood drip from my arm. But it wouldn't be the blood I see - I would see my bottled-up emotions slowly leaking out. I know that now.

The pain really is comforting. No one believes it until they've gotten there, but it is. It reminds you that you're human, that you can feel something, and that you haven't stopped fighting yet. Some people say that you're a coward, that if you want it over so badly, then you should just end it. But you can't because the truth is you're still fighting, you're still brave enough to live and hope that tomorrow will be better.

And once you've calmed down afterwards, it's not really gone, just suppressed. You're not okay, but you're still alive. And, whether or not you realise it, when that one person asks "What happened there?" and you answer "The cat scratched me", inside you're really asking for help, and that 'Cat Scratch' is your messenger, your sign. And you're hoping that this person will realise that and help you. Because you're not a coward... you're brave enough to ask for something that most people couldn't dream of asking for - help.