Personal Stories

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was
lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see..."

          I started cutting in October of 2004. I stopped May of 2005. Those seven
months were the longest and most horrible of my life, though I was fortunate
enough to get out of the game relatively early...but not early enough.
          To put it simply, my dad is a drunk. The secret is - nobody but my
family knows it. He gets way out of hand both verbally and physically. He's
gotten countless DUI's and been to jail more times that even I know about
(three that I can remember though). He used to be on drugs, and signs show
that he may be on them again.
         My daddy was my hero. I have so many childhood memories...we spent most of our time together, usually outdoors - fishing, swimming, planting trees
together (about a thousand all together)..he told me that my grandkids would
one day come to our country farm and be able to climb those trees..Every
time I had to go to the dentist or the doctor and find out I had a cavity or
get a shot - he'd always take me out for ice cream or to the toy store. When
I was swept away by the current at a vacation at the beach, he was the one
who ran out to rescue me. He was the one to comfort me when I had to have a
nail taken out of my foot. I used to always squeeze into his tv chair with
him...up until the time I realized why he spent all that time with me.
          I was the only one who knew nothing about his problems...I was the
youngest in the family, and the only one who still trusted my dad.
          But as I got older, I began to realize things...my parents fighting late
into the night, my dad screaming at my crying mother, telling her things I
don't even want to think about. I would come downstairs, crying myself, and
he would stop yelling and gently say "go back to bed, sweetie". Well I
didn't have much of a choice.
          It wasn't until I was thirteen though, that my mom finally revealed to me
most everything there was to know about my dad...I remember I had a science
project due for school, but I had gotten a horrible case of the flu and
hadn't been to school Monday through Thursday (it was Friday)..however, I
had to get this project in on Friday so I went into school - no voice,
blurry vision, and feeling as awful as I've ever felt - and turned it in. On
the way back, my mom was really quiet and I noticed we weren't driving the
normal route home. I finally asked what we were doing when we parked into
someone else's driveway. But somehow, I already knew everything she was
about to tell me...she pointed over to another car in the driveway. "That's
your father's car," she said. "What's going on?" I asked...or rather rasped.
          She went on to explain that he was having an affair - one of many - with
another woman..and now she had proof. Long story shorter, my dad was really
angry at my mom for going there when I was in the car. My relationship with
him was never the same. I never talk to him, never go anywhere with him,
nothing. I can't even stand to see his car pull in our driveway anymore. My
little sister had now taken my place as Daddy's Girl - she was (and is) now
the one who is perfectly innocent and knows nothing about who he really is.
          You may ask why my mom wouldn't divorce my dad...I ask myself that
everyday. But I'm not a very open person and don't tend to express my true
thoughts or emotions to anyone. Partly because I'm over-cautious and not
easily trusting, and partly because I was told never to say a thing about
what I knew about him. I kept those feelings bottled up for so long...the
hate, the anger, the confusion, the betrayal...
         And then, my freshmen year of highschool, a friend of mine introduced
(unintentionally) to me the world of cutting. I was amazed and shocked that
she would do something like that...yeah, I'd heard about it and had some
online friends who did that, but I, personally, could never imagine hurting
myself intentionally...I mean, come on!
        Yet not a week later, I found myself going down that road....my friend
easily recognized the signs and told me to take her word of advice to STOP
NOW. "I never ever want you to feel the way I'm feeling," she said to me. I
dismissed that without a thought...it was an escape - I now had control. Now
when my dad drank too much and was uncontrollable, I would hide away and do
something I DID have control over. It got worse and worse, to the point that
I seriously thought I wouldn't survive the week on several occasions...and I
got close a few times.
       Finally, school was ending...it was two/three weeks before school was to
let out, and a teacher of mine interrupted another class of mine and told me
she wanted to talk to me. Apparently someone had come up to her and told her
that I had been cutting myself - To this day, I still have no idea who it
was... - and basically it went downhill for me from there. I was so angry at
whoever would rat on me and angry at her for trying to intervene in MY life.
But truth was...I was miserable anyway.
       Again, to shorten this, it never actually came down to "a decision to
stop" . Just one night I prayed to God that He needed to intervene in this
life of one of his children if he thought it was good for anything...and he
did. Slowly (VERY slowly) I learned to be patient with God and let Him
direct me to him...and I still am going (very slowly) towards that
direction. Life isn't all flowers and candy, I can assure you of that. But I
know without a doubt that God is real and has something planned for my
life...otherwise, he wouldn't have given a second thought to saving it.
        One day I grabbed my Bible and read through the first three gospels...I
had no idea what prompted me to do that - when I heard about people "digging
into God's Word" and "soaking up His love through the Bible" I thought
(though I wouldn't have admitted it to myself) that that just wasn't for
me...when I read the Bible, it made me feel better - but only because it
eased some of the guilt I had for not being a more committed Christian. But
this time...I couldn't stop. It was AMAZING. I actually cried reading about
the crucifixion...it was so heart-wrenching and so real. It's never been
that way before.
        Now I'm on the road to recovery..but not because of me - because of God,
who cares so unbelievably much about me that He's brought me to where I am
now and what I'm beginning to become...not to say I'm not tempted. I'm
almost ALWAYS tempted. Yeah, I threw away the knives, the broken pieces of
glass, everything sharp I could think of...but there's always something.
Pretty much, nothing can stop a person from cutting but themself - I learned
that very quickly. If you aren't going to make the decision (though it may
come upon you slowly), then you aren't going to stop cutting.
         Another thing to know is that it DOES get easier...never resolved, but
easier... Sometimes I think about cutting and completely abhor the thought.
Every time I do, I know it's because of God...How else could something I
love become something I hate? I'm sorry, but you don't just decide that on a
whim.
       So now, here I am..a new sophomore in highschool struggling with the
stresses that come from highschool and the stresses that come from my own
home. Both can be excruciatingly overwhelming, but I can't help thinking
about the verse in the Bible (my favorite one) about God putting me through
trials and giving me troubles so that I can turn around and give others the
grace He gave me when they go through the same thing. Isn't that a comfort?
God doesn't waste a single hurt. I believe Him. I don't get it - but I do
believe it. Because I trust God with my life and am trying to allow him to
direct it. The hope I feel from His love is so overwhelming, and gives me
reason to live again...