Confessions of a Former Cutter

When most people hear the term “self-mutilation”, it makes them think of a person who is crazy or mentally unstable. Some might even relate the term to a person with suicidal tendencies when in fact it has nothing to with being crazy, or suicidal.

Many people would cringe at the mere idea that a person would want to self mutilate themselves and although this is a subject that most people would rather not talk about, it is estimated that 2 to 3 million Americans suffer from self mutilation.

So what is self mutilation?

Self mutilation is the act of intentionally inflicting harm upon oneself by cutting, scratching, burning, hair pulling, anything that causes physical harm to oneself. Tattooing and piercing can be forms of self mutilation but only if pain and/or stress relief was a factor.

A self mutilator can be anyone of any age, but is more commonly a female between the ages of 13 and 30.

Why would anyone want to self inflict pain on themselves?

Self mutilation is usually used as a coping mechanism. I can’t speak for all cutters in terms of their reasons for cutting, but I can enlighten you with my story, even though I must admit that since this story is so personal to me, I did think twice before writing it.

Who knows? There might be people out there who might learn something from this. So here’s my story:

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never really cared to show people my “soft” side. I believed (and to this day still believe) that if you allow others to see you weak, or soft, you would be setting yourself up to get hurt. It was important to keep an appearance of being tough and strong, even if it was only a façade.

I’m not really sure what lead me to think this way. All I can tell you is that I felt very strongly about not feeling vulnerable. I guess it may have had something to do with not properly learning how to handle emotional pain.

I had created a barrier around myself sometime during my childhood, and to this day, that barrier still stands, which I’ve just realized, may actually be hurting me, instead of helping me as it was intended. To move forward in life, sometimes you have to look back and see where the problem began.

I remember that when I was going into the 4th grade, I transferred elementary schools and was labeled “the new kid in school”. I felt pretty alone and isolated. I had made several friends, and yet, I always felt as if I never quite fit in.

I carried these feelings of isolation from elementary school, to middle school. In the summer going into my 8th grade, things took a turn for the worse when some unexpected “new editions” were integrated into my family unit.

The first time I remember cutting myself, I was 13 years old. Believe it or not, it was actually an accident. I was in class while the teacher was rambling on about God-knows-what, and was lost in my own thoughts. I had a mechanical pencil in hand and had unconsciously begun drawing on my skin. I suddenly realized that my skin was sore and looked down to see that not only had I unconsciously drawn on my skin but I had drawn a figure of a cross. My skin was red from where I had drawn the cross. At that point I really didn’t think much else about it, but instead of stopping, I continued to draw on my skin. I can’t say for sure why I didn’t stop. I guess it was because in some strange way, it felt good.

I was going through a lot of problems at the time. As I stated, there were some unexpected new editions to the family and I was suffering from low self esteem since I was a minority in a majority African American school.

Kids going through puberty can be quite cruel. I felt as if I had no control over my life, but the day I accidentally cut myself, I realized that although I had no control over the changes that had taken place in my life, cutting myself was something that I could very well control.

In some strange way, cutting myself allowed me to endure the emotional pain that I was feeling. It probably should have raised some red flags to family that something was wrong, but it went unnoticed.

I enjoyed the feeling of cutting myself because it felt like some sort of relief. All the anger and grief that I was unable to express made its appearance on my skin. I would cut my arms, legs, stomach, and once even my back. It was the only way I knew how to cope with my anger and emotional instability.

Through high school, I continue to cut. I felt isolated and had few if any friends, my freshman year. I was miserable at home and so I cut myself. When my mom finally did notice, she told me to stop. She thought that I was doing it for attention. I’m sure she meant well, but you can’t tell a cutter to stop cutting themselves and expect them to actually listen. It just doesn’t work that way.

As I watched my peers date and exchange Valentines Day cards, Christmas cards, and bring cakes and balloons for their friends on their birthday, I felt so alone and isolated. I would often wonder to myself, “Why don’t I have friends like that? What’s wrong with me?”. In all honesty, it tore me up inside, but I was determined to let others know that. So I’d act as if I didn’t give a shit and then I’d go to the bathroom at school or wait to go home to cut myself.

The situation at home wasn’t any better and only increased the urge to cut myself. I thought that no one cared about me, especially since no one tried to do anything to stop me.

Anytime that I felt stressed, angry, sad, or just plain miserable, I would go cut myself. I did this all throughout high school and no one seemed to notice, and those who did notice, didn’t seem to care.

Then one day during study hall, my senior year, someone did notice. My swim coach noticed some scars and fresh cuts on my arm and told me that he was concerned about how I had attained those scratches. Of course, I lied and told him some ridiculous story about the cat scratching me. I don’t think he believed me since he warned me that if he saw anymore suspicious cuts on me, he would have to refer me to the schools shrink.

Like a bulimic that learns to hide their constant trips to the bathroom and vomit breath, I learned how to hide my compulsions to cut. From that day on, I would cut my stomach instead.

The same year that I graduated high school, my situation at home had also improved. I was attending a university where I no longer felt like an outcast. My self esteem had also greatly improved. For that whole year that I was in school, I didn’t cut myself.

When I didn’t return to school the following fall, I again, felt alone and isolated. Again, I found myself cutting. My younger sister had also begun doing the same thing, and I couldn’t help but to feel somewhat responsible for that.

I was in shock when my sister was taken to the hospital to be evaluated by the doctors for cutting herself since no one had even bothered to take my cutting problems seriously. I ended up cutting myself that day.

At 19, I experienced a traumatic event, and for months, I would cut myself daily. I also must’ve experienced some sort of psychosis because I began to hallucinate for some time afterwards. I began having violent outbreaks, including an incident were I attacked one of my aunts, who was mentally unstable at the time due to being prescribed Prozac which she more then likely didn’t need, physically, followed by more cutting.

Not a lot of people know this about me, but the third tattoo that I had done was related to the traumatic incident. I also pierced my nose in response to a broken heart. The most recent tattoo on my forearm was also in response to emotional feelings that I just didn’t know how to express.

I tend to downplay how hurt am I when someone has hurt me emotionally. I make it seem like it’s no big deal even if I feel like I’m dying inside. I do this because I don’t like the idea of people thinking I’m weak and/or vulnerable. It’s a coping mechanism I suppose.

I’ll be honest. The only reason that I stopped cutting myself was because, at this point, I have a lot to lose if I’m ever caught. Tattoos and piercing are socially acceptable which is why I’ve now moved on to this form of self mutilation. Of course tattoos are also a lot more expensive which is why I’ve only had three done for the purpose of self mutilation, one of which was self inflicted and I’ll be completely honest and tell you that although the home made tattoo is shitty quality, it was much more gratifying then the two I had done professionally. The nose piercing was also self inflicted.

I’m not mentally unstable. I just haven’t learned a healthy way to process and cope with my feelings. I’ve begun to chain smoke to replace my former ways of self mutilation. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to face my emotions like a normal person would because I just don’t know how to.

They say that some of the best psychologist are really screwed up in the head, so who knows. Maybe I will be able to put my degree to use after all.

Are We All Bi-Curious?

When the term bisexual comes to mind, the first thought for most people is usually that of a young woman who is just oozing with sexuality. Some people would even classify this kind of woman as being sexually overcharged.

But what would you think if I told you that all humans are bi-curious by nature? I think that most people would have a hard time excepting this theory and would become uncomfortable with just the thought alone that they themselves just may be bi-curious. Men especially would find this theory a little hard to swallow, no pun intended.

The fact remains that bisexuality is nothing new to modern society and has been practiced by ancient man.

It might shock some people to learn that in ancient Greece, same-sex relationships were mandatory for the Spartans between the younger boys and the adult men. This was deemed acceptable so long as the men eventually married and had children. The belief was that love and erotic relationships between the experienced soldiers and the rookie soldiers would create a stronger bond and that the soldiers would fight more fearlessly as they wanted to impress their lovers.

However, in today’s society, something like what occurred between the Spartans in ancient Greece would not be socially acceptable with modern man.

A man who engages in sexual acts with another man is quickly labeled as a homosexual, regardless of whether or not his sexual preference might lean more towards woman.

Woman, on the other hand, can engage in sexual relations with one another and not be automatically labeled as a lesbian. Most people would probably assume that the woman was “just being curious”.

I have come up with my own beliefs about bisexuality that I’m sure many people would disagree with. But it’s my theory, so what can you do?

My theory states that all humans on this earth exhibit some traits of bisexuality. That’s not to say that all people act on it. It’s just to say that the traits are there.

As children, we are curious about our bodies. It is this curiosity that often leads children as young as 4-years-old to explore their bisexuality among their peers, though this is more of a common occurrence between little girls then with little boys.

As adults, this trend continues. Women tend to be more open to the idea of experimenting with their bisexuality. It maybe due to the fact that woman have already become comfortable with this type of behavior from childhood. It could also have something to do with the fact that the behavior is more socially accepted by society. A woman, who is deemed bisexual, often becomes more desirable to men simply because most men have the ever recurring fantasy of being with two women at once.

Men however, tend to be classified as being homosexual if they even entertain the idea of experimenting with their bisexuality and are somewhat less desired by woman.

In a sense bisexuality may not even really exist. Most people who classify themselves as being bisexual will always have a stronger preference one way or the other, thus defining their sexual preference. But why do we feel the need to put people in one category or the other?

Simply stated: because it’s human nature to do so. Having labels such as “straight”, “gay” or “bi” lets others know what you prefer and whether or not it’s safe for them to approach you if they’re interested.

Bisexuality is the gray area of sexual orientation. Unlike being gay or straight, who have a sexual preference one way or the other, a bisexual can opt to go either way, which tends to confuse most people.

Alfred Kinsey, who was the founder of what is now referred to as “sexology”, developed the Kinsey Scale which was designed as an attempt to measure sexual orientation.

This is a copy of the scale:


Because most straight women have a tendency to experiment with their bisexuality, they would be scored as either a 1 or 2, according to the scale. On the other hand, most straight men would score a 0 since they are less likely to toy around with their sexuality.

I, myself, would score about a 2 based on the Kinsey Scale. (Don’t act surprised. Most women you know are probably the same way. They just don’t admit to it. It is completely sexually healthy to have the occasional roll-in-the-hay with a member of the same sex. Besides, for a straight woman, it’s the loophole to cheating).

Although most men would score a 0, according to the Kinsey Scale, it is my belief that straight men who are too worried to experiment physically with their bisexuality due to society standards, still find other ways to explore their bisexual side.

It is my belief that movies, such as Troy, Alexander, and the more recent 300, are all homoerotic movies created by men for men to serve the purpose of allowing straight men to safely somewhat indulge in their bi-curiosity without fear of being chastised or being labeled a homosexual, and all under the guise of the movie being labeled a War movie.

Straight men also tend to push their women partners into anal sex as a way to experiment with their bi-curiousness. Society does not considered this to be homosexual behavior since the men are penetrating a woman’s anus as opposed to a mans anus, though it is really all the same.

The fact remains that whether you choose to admit to it or not, the human species, by nature, is bi-curious. There are many who may never act out on their curiosity, but the thoughts in their mind will always exist even if they never share it with another sole on this earth.

Like it or not, we are all bi-curious.