Cutting. (May trigger some)

Cutting is a seriously bad addiction. I cut the first time when I was in 9th grade. I cut an X with a line under it on my upper forearm where it was hidden under my sleeve. I did it once and I was addicted. I loved the pain I felt with the tack slicing through my flesh.

After I cut, I was obviously bleeding. So I went to bed that night with an old sock wrapped around my arm.

After that, I decided to cut my belly. I could hide it easier then my arms. I used an earring to cut my flesh. It hurt so bad, but it felt so good!

I couldn’t stop. My belly soon looked like someone attacked me with scissors.

My parents found out soon after that. They took away my razors and anything sharp.

I went to the second psych ward and that’s when I decided I needed help. So I cut in plain sight of the cameras watching us, just so I could get caught and helped.

No luck.

So I gave up. I told myself I would never cut again. But I did.

But about 5 months ago, was the last time I cut. Ever. I made a promise and I attend to keep it!

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