Wear Your Weakness With Pride.

*Disclaimer: The subject matter in this blog post may not be suitable for everyone.*

I am a Cutter.

For the last 2 years, I have intentionally made cuts and scratches onto my skin. What started as a couple of cuts turned into a BIG problem. It almost even cost me my life. Twice! It is something that I struggle with every day. I look at my body and I see over 100+ cuts and scars on my body. I try to hide the scars, but people always find out about it. So I want to explain why I did it.

I cut because I hated myself. I felt alone. I felt ugly. I felt that there was no one that cared for me. I felt like I only caused hurt to everyone I met.  I thought that the only way to say “I’m sorry” was to mark myself. I started in 2013. I used a little shaving razor in my bathroom. It started as a cut here, a cut there. They were too small for anyone to notice. Over the course of a few months, the scars got bigger. I started lying to people about how the cuts got there:

“Oh, this scar? I fought a cat.”
” I fell off a bike.”
“I fought….like 9 dudes at a bar.”
“I…uh……fought a Tiger”.

I wanted to tell people the truth, but I was afraid. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy. I have an active social life. I have a lot of friends. They would be scared of me if I told them. They would call me a freak and have me committed! Looking back, I wish I would have told them. It would have stopped if I did.


Unfortunately, the cutting got worse. In 2014, the cuts were halfway down my forearm. The worst accident came in February 2015. I had a huge fight with my best friends. They didn’t want anything to do with me. It was my fault. I felt so low. I got the sharpest thing I could find and I swiped away at my arm. I went to the hospital shortly after. After I got out, I cut even more. Every week there would be some fresh cuts. The local CVS got so used to me buying band aids, they started knowing me by name. When I ran out of room cutting on my arm, I cut on my chest. Then, I went down to my stomach. I knew I needed to stop. Finally, reality hit me when I looked in the mirror. I saw my bare body in front of me. What I stared at was a body so full of scars. My body used to be so clean and smooth. It was perfect. I looked long and hard. What if a woman I really liked saw my body? Who would want a dude that cuts himself? It was for that reason that I started sobbing. I fell to the floor and yelled at the top of my lungs. I felt ugly. I felt like a monster…..a freak. I decided to tell my good friend at her job that I needed help. She understood what I was going through and helped me through this issue. She made me realize that I was loved; that I was wanted. She saved my life that day.

Now, I can say that I am getting better. My scars are healing, and i got my confidence back. I remembered who I was again. I am just taking it one day at a time. Most of my friends still don’t know that I have this issue. For that, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you guys to leave me. Now, I don’t care who knows. 

To the people reading this that have the same problem I have, PLEASE GET HELP!. It took me 3 hospital visits, 1 worried mother, 6 concerned best friends, 2 devastated brothers, 3 people leaving, and over 100 scars on my body to realize that this was ONE BIG PROBLEM!! You are loved. You are wanted. People do care about you. You aren’t alone in this.

So say what you will about me. I dont really care. I’m not looking for sympathy or attention. I just want awareness. I also want to break the stigma that only teenage girls, kids, and people that like My Chemical Romance are the only ones that cut. I started cutting when I was 21. This effects a lot of people of a lot of age groups and backgrounds.

I’ve gotten better. My life is pretty amazing! I have some of the best people in my corner backing me up! I’ve learned that scars do heal. I’ve learned that my family and friends are all I need to get through the day. And if they aren’t around, I have the confidence to help myself. I’ve actually grown to love these scars. They tell the story of a guy that was struggling with his life. However, he survived. And he did get better. He decided that he valued himself more than the razors and knives. He gained his life back. Everyone has weaknesses. I just happen to wear mine on my body.  Thanks for reading! Hope this helps!


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