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| Self Injury Outreach A safe place to share experiences, feelings, and find support |
Personal Experiences and Poems: | ||
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If you would like your stories/poems to appear here for others to view, send them to me at fwelns_girl@hotmail.com, with SI Outreach as the subject. | ||
Poems: Note: Some authors choose to remain unknown, and so alias names may be used | ||
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Nobody Knows By: Chelsea Blood on my wrist There is a glass in my hand Nobody knows They cannot understand They don't listen So they cant hear me cry Nobody knows I just wish i could die Shaking fingers Grasp this plea for release Nobody knows How the pain will not cease Sadness bleeding Emptying to the floor Nobody knows I always crave for more Bleeding slowly Until my wound will close Dying slowly Nobody knows.
SCARS By: Well Woo You asked to see my scars But they do not come near to the pain I feel I hurt deeper I hurt more I don't heal like my scars Scars fade but they never disappear Just like my memoriesPermanent reminders of my past I want you to know the pain I feel But I cannot express it You asked to see my scars But they say too much Scream of anger Cry of pain Speak softly of sadness I crossed my arms Sat silently in front of you And kept my scars to my self
Can't,Won't
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**Note** This poem was written by a good friend of mine, who is not a cutter. I was surprised to see this point of view and immediately asked if I could share it with all of you. | ||
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Reversal By: Jacob A drop of crimson | ||
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Hi my name is Melanie Wilds and Ive been a cutter for 2 years now and I More of my writings: www.geocities.com/allesinside
My Story By Brianna I was born in San Jose, California. For 14 years, I pretty much had the same friends. They were incredible friends - the kind who would do anything for you. My friend's parents and my parents were friends, and we'd always do everything together. Sometimes even take vacations together. Life was perfect in California. I didn't live in a big house, nor did I live in that great of a neighbor, or go to a very good school. But I was happy - completely happy. Not just superficially happy, but the *real* kind. In 1996, IBM decided that it was going to close down the part of the company where my dad worked. They gave him the option of relocating to New York, Texas, or North Carolina. So during that summer, we packed our bags and moved to Chapel Hill, North Carolina. I was not only in a bran new place but I was also starting my freshman year in high school. I knew I had to get involved with as many activities within the school as I possibly could, in order to meet people. I joined the high school band, went to clubs, and took a wide variety of classes. I was starting to make friends, when a girl in band decided that she did not like me for some reason. She spread a rumor around school, telling people that I was a lesbian and some kind of weird freak. All of the new people that I had met decided that they didn't want their own reputations ruined by hanging out with me, so they eventually stopped talking to me. During my sophomore year, a guy in my English class stole some things out of my backpack. During our next class together he waved around my things on the other side of the classroom, so I wrote him a note asking him to give them back to me. He wrote back saying that he would not give me my things back and he and his friends would hurt me. After school, I went to my English teacher and gave her the letter that he had given me earlier in the day. He was suspended for 3 days. When he returned he was extremely mad at me. Everyday he would find me in the hallways and yells out how stupid and ugly I was. I was afraid that if I said something again, that something even worse would happen. I didn't say anything until my senior year, when I told the police at school. The police officer뭩 made him sign a restraining order. I had to go through all of this alone. I didn't have any friends to support me and help me through these rough times. I didn뭪 have my parents support, because I was too ashamed to even tell them what was going on. In 2000, we had to relocate again. My dad had to start working in January at his new job, but my brother and I couldn't go. My mom wanted us to stay behind and finish the school year. More than anything else, I wanted to get out of North Carolina. For the past 4 years I had come home crying, wishing things were different. One night I had a dream that I was waking up back in my room in California and I felt so happy. But then reality struck and I woke up in North Carolina. I'd never felt so much heartache before then. I begged and begged to leave North Carolina with my dad and just finish up high school in Oregon. When I found out that I had to stay in NC, I wanted to die. For some reason, I thought it was the only way I could be free of the pain I was feeling. I came close to taking my own life. The day finally came when we moved. It was such a huge relief for me. Things were going to get better. I was going to try and be more outgoing, and I was just going to be myself and have fun. I tried every possible way to make new friends. I did a few extremely stupid things (which I regret). That summer, I slept with 3 guys because I wanted them to like me. But after I slept with them, I never heard back from them. One time when I went downtown (downtown Portland) to meet a guy from online, I met up with some other "freak". This guy came up to me and asked me for directions to the shopping mall that was downtown. I figured I could help him out since I knew. So I told him the directions and then he started following me. He asked me really personal questions like where I went to school, how old I was, and if I was a virgin. Then he asked me to come to his hotel room with him. I was completely freaked out and I just ran away from him into a crowded part of downtown. That really scared me. He could have done something really terrible to me. I still can't go downtown by myself. I tried very hard to make some friends and it did not work. It was such a huge letdown. I felt like something was wrong with me. To top it off I was dating a guy who (seemingly nice at first) turned out to be a really horrible person. He would verbally abuse me. He would say horrible things to me and then come back begging me to forgive him, saying he would change. I was so desperate to belong somewhere, that it took me 2 years before I was finally strong enough to leave. During that time, I started cutting my arms. I didn't even know what cutting was or that other people did it. I really can't remember what my reasons were for cutting the first time, although I can remember how I felt. My chemistry teacher saw my arms one day in class and asked me to his office. He asked me about the cuts on my arms. When I told him that I had done that to my arms, he had me go talk to a counselor. I was so embarrassed and ashamed; it was really hard for me to talk to the counselor. I was not ready to talk. I had just found out how messed up I was. Eventually I changed schools, but the cutting still continued. And still continues to this day. I still don't belong anywhere and I'm still trying to fit in. I've found what I want to do with my life, but I'm not even sure if I fit in at school. It's been 6 years since I've felt like I belonged somewhere. I struggle with cutting more than I ever thought I could. Cutting is almost like an addiction. I know how bad it is, but when I feel pain inside, it's the only way out. One day I'll figure out why I started cutting and what뭩 driving these urges. I know the things that happened to me in high school (and afterwards) left an everlasting scar on my heart, but I thought I would have been able to 밼orgive and forget?by now. Until I do, I will just keep living my life the best way I know how. Through time, I will learn how to stop or lessen the pain, and I will beat this. | ||