General Chat

[Dean]

Yeah, I agree, but I'm wondering if they actually look anywhere else for suppport before they start doing that.

Edited February 6, 2006 by Meester

[Drew]

Hmm, that sounds like the foodcourt down at westfield but there are many more then that!

[MarMar]

Making contact and actually getting help is not that easy...

[Kimmy]

Yay 500 pages!

I agree Mah, I've never been in the position but often admitting you have a problem is hard enough. It's the same with people who have eating disorders

[MarMar]

It's also a question of shame. I've been involved in some cutting, but not so serious as it is for some. But, I was so ashamed of it - because I didn't want people to know I couldn't cope.

[Drew]

This has never happened to me before but i got smashed after two shots of Malibu Is that even possible?

[Dean]

Ok, I'm agreeing, but I've seen both sides of it so I'm not completely sure. A few people eventually got help whereas somepeople are still doing more than 1 year after they started. I'm actually thinking, if taken the right way, this would be a good storyline for H&A to do.

ETA: I don't know about that summer_guy, I suppose it is possible.

Edited February 6, 2006 by Meester

[Dean]

I started laughing, until I realised it was that same damn annoying song from the ads.

[Kimmy]

This is my story. Warning quite..shocking and yeh... It's fiction by the way

As the knife sliced through my skin it was like no feeling I had ever felt before. Instead of anticipated pain I found a sweet relief. The blood seeped from the wound like how the happiness had seeped from my life.I went into a different state of mind. I floated into a world where nothing mattered. It was amazing. I felt like finally I was in control of something, in control of how much pain I could be in. It was the only pain I could control.

Nobody understands me; no one understands the pain I’ve been through. When I was five I was raped in a public toilet. I never told anyone, instead I inflicted pain on myself. I was depressed but no one could see it. I hated myself and I hated others for hating me. I felt like everyone was just standing there, judging me, laughing at me.

Throughout my childhood I had no friends. When I was 12 I started high school and made friends with another girl. We had a close bond and I felt I could confide in her. I told her what had happened. That’s when she told me about cutting.She showed me her wrists. They were covered in scars made from scissors, knives and razor blades. She told me everything I needed to know about cutting, like where to put the incisions. That’s when I started. I knew what I was doing was wrong but all the pain I had inside me expelled out of my body with every cut I made.

Cutting is addictive. It’s like a drug. Once you start you can’t stop. It’s about hijacking you adrenaline and turning all of your emotional pain into a rush. When I cut, the feeling made me more awake then I had ever been before.I tried my hardest to cover the scars but eventually a teacher spotted them. She called my parents; they had no idea. My parents took me to counselling and I eventually opened up and told them about being raped.

That happened over two years ago. I have over 15 scars on my arms from cutting which will never go away. I used to think my scars were beautiful, battle wounds of depression, but now I know I was wrong. My scars are ugly and they are something I have to live with for the rest of my life.

I look at my scars everyday to remind myself of the pain I went through. There’s only one thing that comes into my mind when I do this.

Why?

[Dean]

Wow. That was really good writing. Was this for school or something?