March 2, 2012 Cut
“I’m not a stranger. No I’m yours. With crippled anger and tears that drip sore….I do not wanna be afraid. I do not want to die inside just to breathe. I’m tired of feeling so numb. Relief exists, I find when I am cut,” are the lyrics to Plumb’s song “Cut.”
Every time I hear the song I burst into tears and I’m not sure why. I’ve never been much of a cutter, but I understand the urge. I’ve actually only cut myself twice—once before I went into the hospital in 1993 and once before I went on medication in 2011. However, I’ve had the urge to cut more than that. They say there are two to three million cutters out there.
Caroline Kettlewell wrote about her experiences cutting in her 1999 memoir Skin Games. Interestingly, when Caroline’s classmates walked in on her cutting they dismissed it as selfish, stupid and a demand for attention. They made fun of her and called her a freak, but they never took it seriously, which is a shame. Cutting is linked to both depression and anorexia. It is a symptom of a much larger dysfunction.
Jolene Siana also wrote about cutting herself in her 2005 memoir Go Ask Ogre. Joel recommended the book to me shortly after we met online and I read it back then. It was cool that her confessional letters to the lead singer of Skinny Puppies saved her life. I admire her openness and talent as a writer and artist.
The character of Ellie Nash on Degrassi Next Generation was a cutter as well. She was a Goth-Girl and a writer who had an alcoholic mother.
Garbage came out with a song called “Bleed Like Me” about cutters too.
The phenomenon may not be new, but it has taken Pop Culture a while to catch on. Only recently has it become well known. Certainly I knew nothing of it the first time I saw it
I went with Nicky to a party at someone’s house. It was a Saturday night and I was surprised to find myself back at Mark and Roberta’s old apartment on Main Street. Some guy was cutting himself with a razor blade. His girlfriend totally freaked out and yelled at him. That was in 1992.
The winter of 1993 I had suicidal thoughts, but didn’t really want to die. One night I drug a knife across my wrists. It was too dull to do much. I didn’t really understand the urge I had at the time. It wasn’t my intention to bleed to death really.
At one point I wanted to plunge a knife into my heart, not so much to commit suicide, but because the pain was too much and I wanted relief. I knew bleeding would provide relief, but I was too scared to do it. Not to mention a knife to the heart would likely be deadly. Still, I fantasized about the pain pouring out with the blood.
When I was abandoned me last year, the urges returned. Once I got on medication, the thoughts have been chased away. But every time I hear Plumb’s song it reminds me of the pain that still remains inside. Somehow, I go on with my life and focus on my writing, but that doesn’t mean that the pain has disappeared entirely. Though I feel like I’ve healed in some ways, there are still scars.
I finished the book Skin Games and moved onto The Center Cannot Hold by Elyn Saks. This week I also read Madness by Mary Hornabach, Mania and The Darkside of Innocence by Terri Cheney. Those three books were about being Bi-Polar.
Those books inspired me to write a blog about my own experiences being Bi-Polar. I pinpointed the beginning of my issues as 1988.
Thursday I went to the doctor’s. I asked her about changing to a cheaper medication than the Seroquel XR. She decided to try plain Seroquel. Unfortunately, the new prescription turned out to be MORE expensive. I will have to call on Monday and get another prescription.
Despite feeling tired all the time, I’ve tried to make myself exercise as well. I was dancing some on Wednesday. I hate being overweight. Every time I see a picture of myself, I feel so unattractive. While resting after dancing on Wednesday I listened to the song “Cut” once again—thus the theme of cutting.