I would like to open up my secret life with introducing myself first, therefore you can feel as though you know me personally. My name is Anne, I am a 28 year old mom of 2 who is soon to be married, this will be the first time in 19 years that I have openly and honestly shared my intense relationship with a razor. It started out as a hateful relationship and grew into something I love and can always count on in my times of need. I hope you will be as open-minded
At A Glance Author Anne Marie Contact Anne Marie@bme.anon When Ten years ago or more when reading my story as I was when reading yours. In short here is my life.
The first 8 years of my life were quite difficult,I grew up in a home with a father that took pleasure in beating myself and my mother.
I remember sitting in the hallway of my house watching my dad throw my mom into the wall and seeing the blood run from her nose and mouth. The anger I felt was so intense that I truly thought that I would explode, what a feeling a child should have. It was on this day that I first cut my ankles. I remember being in the shower and seeing my mothers cheap Bic razor, I thought to myself I wonder how it would feel just to scratch a little line in my leg. After a brief contemplation I decided that I would try it after all it couldn't hurt as bad as what I had already experienced.
I have to say that the first few cuts hurt, but when the blood began to run it was as if all my anger was running with it. It was such a powerful experience that I continued to cut almost everyday for the next few years. As a teenager I felt as though I was the only one who practiced this sort of ritual, but I was so in love with the whole procedure, breaking the razors, preparing my flesh and arranging the bandages that would hide the marks upon completion.
I bet people thought that I had continuously been attacked by my Bic as I always had scars on my legs, they were beautiful and a sign that I could solve any stressful situation with only a few swipes across my skin.
Today I prefer to cut my upper arms, I really enjoy the blood it's almost like a drug that you just can't quit. For every stress I cannot endure I break out my cutting kit as I have so fondly named it turn on some music and go to work. To me its as though all the stress, hurt and disapointments disapear. I laugh at those who judge me or say that I am suicidal or that what I do is a cry for attention. I cut because I love being able to control my emotions, to deal with life in a quite non-invasive matter. I currently have thirty tattoos and five piercings, all of which I love dearly and have provided me with an outlet for my stress or anger. I think that I have come to the conclusion that cutting will always be a part of my life. I don't try to justify my actions to myself anymore and have accepted the fact that this is me. Love it or leave it.
I have experienced so many things in my life, I have battled being a single mother, being poor,being a junkie and the list could go on and on. Today I am a great mother, I'm still poor but have everyting I need, I've kicked the junk and continue to live one day at a time.
However, my love for cutting will always exsist, I only cut about once a month now as my children often want to know where the wounds come from.(My cat can only attack me so many times)
My close family has tried to educate themselves, and now they try to accept the scars, tattoos and piercings I so proudly display.
I am thankful to know that there are so many cutters out there and that I am not alone or twisted. I truly had no idea how many people were out there. Its kind of funny how I found BME surfing the web looking at tattoo sights, low and behold there you are. I read so many stories presented on this site there were many I could relate to and many that touched me. So I thought that I would try my story and see how it would fare. I will end this with saying to all cutters out there play safe, play smart, it is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for what you are not. So true, so very true.
Anne Marie