I can't stop crying...
I haven't felt this low ever before. What do I do? I have no one to talk to, to tell my problems to. Sure I have my friends but how much help will they be? Will they even listen to me? No. I can't tell them, they'll judge me.
I have an idea... No, I shouldn't do this. Should I? Is this what it's all come down to? My boyfriend just broke up with me and I'm struggling to pass my classes at school. I haven't told my family yet, I'm too scared to know what they'll think about me...
I've never struggled in school before.
Why would he leave me on New Year's day?
I can't take this stress, these thoughts, this pain.
Everyone is asleep, I should go now. Nana keeps it in a jar next to the sink in the kitchen, she won't notice it's gone for the night. I'm going to do this, I have no other option...
I need an outlet... An escape...
I finally found it, but let's be careful about this. First I need to clean it, I'm sure it's dirty. Tears streaming down my face, I can barely see, barely breathe. I'm too emotional right now, I know this isn't the right choice but I can't resist the urge anymore.
Sitting on the cold floor, rolling my sleeve up. Where should I start? I'll just start at my wrist...
The sharp pain only lasts for a minute, then dies away. My arm swells with pain as I keep going... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... I need more. I need to forget my emotional pain... Not too deep though, I don't want to harm myself real bad.
The blood pools over the cuts. I've lost count of how many I've done now. I just can't stop, I feel an urge to keep going, at least until I got halfway up my arm. Looking in the mirror, my tears have stopped. I have to clean this up now, wrap my arm up so my family won't see what I've done.
There's some bandages in the bottom drawer, I can use that. I'll put the razor back before my Nana gets up. Guess I'll wear long sleeves until these heal.
I know all about this type of self-harm. I know it's addictive and leaves scars. I realize I have made a terrible decision...
Regardless, I'll wear these scars for the rest of my life. They're part of me now, part of my story.
This camera eye is capturing the moment when I began to have an emotional breakdown from all the stress and pain that was occurring in my life at that time (back in 2012). It's about the time I decided to become a cutter. It is all my thoughts from that night and decisions I made. It's a personal topic, but I'm not ashamed to admit it. I can't say it's the worst decision I've made, but it was a terrible one.
You are literally beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this. It takes a lot of strength to do, and it's a sign to your recovery process that you have made that leap to be comfortable enough to open up about this. The bold lettering helps put emphasis on those words and concepts. Kinda like a focal point on a picture. I honestly relate to this on SO many levels that I can say it literally feels like I'm reliving that moment. I just want you to know we all have our scars, it's just how we battle through them that are a true test to our character. You are strong and if you ever relapse, I can help you through it. I obviously don't know too much about you, but that will never stop my aid!
Great camera eye.
Hayley,
ReplyDeleteYou've clearly tried to capture the confusion and impulsiveness of this moment. By starting at the moment that you are looking for the razor and trying to make sense of your competing impulses, you throw us directly into the action of this event. You also provide us with some very specific, helpful images, such as the razor that is kept in a jar in the kitchen, that provide a feeling of authenticity to your camera eye. Your camera eye ends with some reflection, one that is similar to the ways people talk about their bodies as texts---as organic narrative of their lives. These topics include things like scars, piercings, and tattoos. In that way, they become living reminders and testaments that continue to shape and affect our lives. You pulled a lot together here.