Bloody Addiction

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a story about about cutting.

Submitted: October 29, 2011

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Submitted: October 29, 2011



People say that I'm a crazy child. They say that I'm messed up within the head. Though my own thoughts scare even me at times of the day. I never did what I did to prove myself unscared of pain nor for the attention that it was to bring upon me. Nine years of the same thing. Doing the same things, after awhile it became boring and dumb.

Starting with one blade I would slowly drag the blade across my wrist and make six evenly cut lines. Knowing I would be in touble for this I cut up one of my tights into a wrist band. Like this I went to school with the silky tan wrist band on. My friend Thomas seent the cuts first. We was in angermangment and the band had slipped up a little showing the freshly cut marks. He was in shock and I could not explain my reasoning of doing this to him. The angermangment teacher was the next to see it. Though she made me show her what was under that band when I jerkd my arm back. This was when I was in middle school. This was when I was young.

My mother seen the cuts upon my legs at an older age and the cuts uopn my arms and shoulder and wrist. I started with one blade and soon I went to four. Loving the sweet taste of the blood. It was a way to forgive myself for the wrong I did it was a way to punish my self for the mistakes other blamed me for. It was for my past present and future. This soon reasoning started to fade as this soon became an addiction. I loved the feel of pain and I loved seeing blood come form me. Though now I was 15 and I am close to graduating though if I had cut once more I could not.

Febuary 28, 2011 was the last day the cuts over my wrist are now scares. I am now 16 and I am graduating. I burnt my skin. They said nothing about that. Cutting has been clean eight months burning is four. Urges still come and go and I regret what I did and I regret stopping I'm a cutter and a burner. I am an addict to this pain. This is what I was raised to myself to believe. One day my passion with this will soon over take me again. Though for now my bloody addiction is put on hold. For now I am a blank face with no emotion. Right now I am a form of my self. Though I'll never be me.

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