Never picked up a blade again

by Rach
(Toronto )

it all started back in grade 7, i was never the one to have many friends and by than i really didnt have many, they just didnt seem to like me. one day i was shaving my legs after a particullarly bad day and i slipped and i accidently cut my leg. i relized that i liked the feeling and i felt better. i cut my leg again, this time on purpose. since than whenever i was pissed off or upset i took out my razor blade. near the end of grade 7 my friend noticed my scars and talked to me i told her the truth she begged me to stop and always checked up on me. that didnt affect me i still was always pissed. the day after school ended there was a surprise pool party for me at my house this friend helped plan it, she came up to me later and told me if i dont stop she will go tell my parents and she was comfertable enough to tell my mother. i didnt stop i cut throughout the whole summer, even at camp. when i came home i found out i was in the different part of my grade for grade 8, away from all my friends. i wasnt close with my friends or that friend anymore. i met these people and became friends with them unfortunately for me a lot of them were cutters, we all shared our stories and why we did. it was obvious though i was the most serious cutter and did it for the most serious reasons. alos unfortunately this group of kids started a lot of drama, i was upset and depressed always and was cutting none stop. when people saw the cuts or scars i blamed my rabbits. one of my so called friends started calling me emo and when he found out i cut again wouldnt talk to me, making me cut more. summer came again and by now my arms were covered in scars. i went to camp, and than came home early i was still cutting and basically depressed by now. summer was over and i was starting a new school for high school, i had no friends going to this school only a few kids i have lost touched with in grade 8, i go and i am really into wear black right now so kids stereotyped me right away. one day in november after a particularly bad day i took the razor and cut i was so mad i accidently took the razor to my cheek! everyone could see now i once again blamed my rabbits. 2 of my new guy friends asked to speak to me, and said they knew what those cuts were and they were not from my rabbits, i just started at them, they said to stop with the BS they knew the truth and wouldnt leave until i admitted it. i did, they were upset and told me to talk to them if i needed to. i didnt listen b/c i knew they did it cuz this group of guys all really just wanted to kknow, not cuz they cared. i kept on cutting. I always wore sweaters over my t-shirts/tank tops at school, or I wear long sleeve. Even in the hottest day, you won’t see me wear a t-shirt without a sweater. When I have gym, I wear a sweatband on my wrists. People thought it was just my style to dress like that. A few weeks ago, my good friend, my locker neighbour, one of the few people I have known for a while, that I still go to school with (for HS we all went to different schools) asked to talk to me in private. He told me he knows we weren’t as close during middle school (grade 6-8, also a different building than elementary and HS) but he has noticed that especially last year and this year I have changed. He remembers me from elementary school and grades 6 and 7 with a really happy go get them attitude, always smiling, ready to help. Now he sees a sad girl who is still extremely nuts and hyper (in the sweetest way possible.) He said he noticed what I wear every day, he hasn’t seen me in something that isn’t full arm length in a long time (excluding gym) he said he went through my camp pictures and even in the summer I was wearing a sweater. He took one of my wrists and pushed up my sleeve looked down and looked at me and said one word, why. He told me, even though we have a jokes friendship, we can always count on each other to laugh and have fun, but he wants me to be ok, and to know I can talk to him about anything. Since then whenever I pick up a blade, I think back to this day and know there is someone who cares. and i have never picked up a blade again.