More on Cutting

I realize that, in a way, I wrote very lightly on cutting the other
day, as if it was almost a manipulative lark. And I also self-condemned
somewhat when I wrote that. But, today, I happened to read a diary of a
girl who had cut herself quite a number of times and it was fresh in
her mind and, when I read it, it brought back so many memories of the
early times I cut. I relived the fear and the serious horror of my own
actions. I had forgotten how stunned one can be at themselves when the
cutting is at its worst. Truly you become frenzied. There is a frenzy
of hatred and a frenzy of anger in your soul and somehow it just HAS to
come out only there’s no way to get it out. You feel like you’re just
going to burst but you also feel like your, so strong, emotions
actually have no impact upon anything, no impact upon the world
whatsoever. And you HAVE to make an impact! Are you that unimportant
that the fact that you are collapsing inside has no meaning to anyone
and has no meaning to anything? The feelings you feel are absolutely
intolerable. The cutting makes the feelings tolerable. Whatever it is
that is inside vents those feelings. And the more intense the feelings,
the more you have to cut, the more dramatic it has to be… not for the
sake of drama because half the time you would rather die than have
anybody find out you’re cutting, but for the sake of venting the huge,
almost palpable, emotions that have built up inside.

Just like a
volcano has to let off steam, the more that’s inside, the bigger the
space needed to vent the steam. The more intense the emotions, the more
cuts you need, the deeper and more dramatic they need to be in order to
release those horrible feelings that have built up.

Crying
doesn’t help anymore. Sometimes crying only makes it worse. Crying
actually gives credence to those emotions. As long as you didn’t cry it
made it like those emotions didn’t exist. You were ignoring them,
willing them to go away. But as soon as you allowed that first tear to
drop and, God forbid, that first real sob. That sob that caused your
shoulders to shake, the one that built into the feeling as if your
whole stomach was going to come out your mouth… as soon as that sob
started, there was no holding back. That, truly, was the worst feeling
you’d ever felt and it just HAD TO STOP. The only way to get rid of it
was this frenzy of violence and the violence was against yourself.

My
weapon of choice was a razor and, later on I used the broken handle of
a coffee mug I owned. In the very early days I used a kitchen knife but
that was quite painful and, although I enjoyed the pain to a certain
extent, it kept me from inflicting as much visual damage as I wanted to
inflict. It just didn’t LOOK as bad as I wanted it to look. The razor
left long marks that didn’t look too bad at first but after some time
welted and bled and looked as if I had been whipped by Roman soldiers.
And the after-pain hurt like h*ll.

The after-pain is such an
important component of cutting. Yes, you hate yourself. You horrify
yourself, but that hatred and horror blessedly keeps your emotions
calm. Whatever it was that started your cutting frenzy in the first
place is quelled by the numb misery that overtakes you after a cutting
binge.

Is there a way out of cutting? I don’t know. I’m not
cutting right now and, believe me, there have been moments I’ve been
tempted. I know I said that I don’t want to be a “crazy old hag,” and
that is a big part of the reason I don’t cut, but that can’t be the
ONLY reason. Why else don’t I cut?

Well, I have a great
therapist but I still cut for many years even when I was seeing him. He
didn’t act horrified by it. When I would finally admit it to him,
generally long after the incident had happened, and I would explain
what led up to it, he would often understand how I ended up cutting.
This particular therapist never said, “Call me before you do it next
time,” although I suppose if I were doing it on a frequent basis at
this time he would have some sort of suggestion to that effect.
Instead, we just keep forging into the underlying emotions and events
that cause those emotions. We deal with the stuff that’s making me
miserable… the stuff that’s causing the volcano.

I don’t know if
anyone can really stop cutting without dealing with the emotions
whether it’s to deal with those via talk therapy, medications or both.
Cutting is like a drug. It’s addictive. Addicts can’t usually just stop
without treatment or rehab or an AA type program. I’m not so sure
self-harmers can do that either (because it’s not just cutting. Some
people burn themselves others have their own special forms of
self-mutilation. Us, dysfunctional people are generally pretty
creative.)

All I know is that I read this other diary this
morning and read what this girl said and her emotions were so
authentic, so fresh, so recent and on the surface. I hurt for her and
wished in any way I could to have some sort of answer or help to offer.
I have nothing. Nothing, except to say that I’m a sister in her pain. I
understand the frenzy. I understand the self-hatred, the desperation,
and the horror. I just wish there was a magic cure.