from cutting to eternity. confessions of a former cutter.

I started cutting when I was 12 years old following a pretty traumatizing sexual experience. It became something i could depend on to level out my emotions. I successfully hid my addiction from everyone for all my teen years and into my twenties. At some point I decided to give it up, but by this time, it had become a big important part of me. I had a shoebox with different "tools" to affect things like depth width sting or blood mass. I self identified as a cutter. I definitely did want to die, but when people say you're trying to kill yourself when you self harm it isn't always true. For me, it wasn't. For me, it helped me to NOT commit suicide. The pain inside eased a little when there was pain outside. When I would see the little beads of red forming inside the fresh wounds I could feel myself emptying. It numbed me. Of course I would inevitably feel shame, which led to wearing sweaters I'm the summer and never wearing shorts ever. But I always came back to it within days of the last time. Then I started having episodes within hours of each other. I started getting into scarification. I would carve hateful words onto my thighs like, die fat [bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse][bless and do not curse]. Die. I gave it up for good 5 years ago, with a few slips in the first year of quitting and one after losing my Dad. It is really hard to learn new coping mechanisms for that much pain, but with Jesus's help I have made a lot of progress. I have given him all my rage and pain and hate and all the evil that was planted in me so long ago. Now I can look at the little girl in the bathroom and feel longing. I want to go back and love me because I really didn't back then. My scars are all over my body. When I look at myself I see a broken child who needed someone to see her pain. I look at my biggest most jagged scar. About 8 inches across. This scar is the only scar that has it's own story. It is my first scar. Six months after the incident that forced me to see the world in a new way I reached my boiling point. My mom had accused me of doing something that I didn't do but I would never speak in turn to her, so I went to my bathroom and locked the door. I screamed I to a towel and punched my legs as hard as I could until I was winded. It hurt, but my eyes were opened to a new kind of relief. I remember next part, but it kind of seems like a dream sequence. I felt high. Like I was literally floating. I don't remember making the choice or removing my pants but I remember picking up the scissors and slashing my leg. I did it almost as hard as I had been punching and it left a wide gash 8 inches long on my thigh. I was surprised when no blood came out. Reality slammed back into my brain and I realized what I just did. It was white inside. Just white. Then the blood started to form in little beads across the length if it and quickly filling and spilling over like a river during monsoon season. I felt dizzy. I knew I was losing too much blood. I knew I did it too deep and if it didn't stop soon I would have to reveal what I had done. I put pressure on it until it finally stopped flowing. It was so big that I had to improvise a bandage. Toilet paper with neosporin wrapped with ace bandage to hold it in place and changed twice a day. It healed after a few weeks forming a long lightning like scar, but all my scars tell a story. The story of how I had more pain than my prideful self could manage on my own, and how Jesus came and showed me how to forgive. I'm not a cutter anymore, but I still feel pain about those same things and other things stemming from those things. Looking at that scar, the first one, reminds me how much more pain I used to feel. It's weird. I have more things to hurt about now, but the pain is bearable now that I have Jesus in my life. He is the healer and the comforter. He helps me when I feel weak and when I start to hate on myself he shows me my worth. He shows me a better way. A way without regret. When others fail to show me they love me, he never does. Now when the urge to cut strikes I open up to God about what I'm feeling. I tell him the Devil is using my pain against me again and and ask him to protect me. He forgives me. He loves me. I am winning against the pain because Jesus is my savior. I won't t lie and say I don't still want to die, because to tell the truth there will never be a greater day in my life than the last one. That's the day i get to go home. But now that i have Jesus, I have hope in God that He is the ruler of all things. I am a thing, so he is my ruler. He gives me breath each day and lets me wake up so he must want me here. Something I couldn't say before is that if I don't die, if i live a long long time, I'm happy to do so. This Is my appointed time. Life is so short when you believe in eternity. This brief period of waiting before i get to meet Him? Done. Sometimes Christians aren't the sunny rosey ones that get so much attention. Sometimes it's people who have known great pain and chose to take God's advice. I don't know if anyone will ever read this or if anyone will ever be affected my it, but this is my testimony. That's the pain I faced, the evil I endured. I was in a deep dark pit of loneliness and hate when God woke me up. He lit a light for me and reached in and pulled me out. If this blog post finds you searching for a better option, seriously look into Jesus. Read the story of Joseph and the incredible power of forgiveness.
The day i got saved that was the message the pastor taught. It moved me. It stirred me. I felt something inside of me come awake. I raised my hand and prayed the sinners prayer:
Dear Heavenly Father. We confess that we have sinned, and we recognize that our sin has separated us from you. We ask for your forgiveness. We invite you now to come into our heart so that we may live through you and you in us. In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.
And nothing has every been the same. Everything changed the day I met Jesus. Now I feel like I am enough for anyone, I feel like there is no human superior or inferior to me because we are all God's children. I see beauty in things i would only have seen filth in before. My past is a messy one. I had more than my fair share of pains. I have scars that will forever be upon my body telling the story of the little girl that didn't know Jesus. What the scars also say is that I know him now. The scars have all faded to pale lines to say I am done with that now ask me why. And I'd tell you this story of meeting God in my pain and letting him help me. Of accepting what Jesus offered me on the cross. Healing, hope, he promised me an end, he promised to love me, he promised me eternity with him. You can accept it too. God is whispring to you now to listen. He wanted me and he wants you. Just pray that prayer. The bible says God will RUN to you. Believe he will.