Date: Apr. 26, 2002 Time: 6:54 PM My current mood is: The swamp of eternal sadness I'm writing in here to take my mind off cutting, once again. My dad just went to the airport to pick up Donna, and the minute he left I thought "I'm alone in the house now....I could cut myself...". But no, I can't. I'll be sorry later, when I can't wear short sleeves or if people see it. I hate that. I once read that if people cut themselves on their lower arms, then they are doing it for attention. Well that is NOT true, at least not with me. All the years I've cut myself, it has mostly been on my lower arms, why I don't know, it just seems like the "right place". That's one of the weird things about the way I (used to) self injure, I know that cutting my lower arms is dumb cause that's such an obvious place for people to see....but it calls to me. When I want to cut, it's my arms that beg to be cut. Like I said it's the "right place". It also depends on what I use to cut myself, cause I need to use the "right sharp object". Ya that's right, not just any sharp object will do...I mean sometimes it will but for example I barely have ever use razors to cut myself. They are not the right one. Most of the time safety pins or whatever they're called are the right one to use, but lately when I think of cutting they are not. I don't know if anyone else is like that, having to cut in the "right" place, with the "right" object. But no, I can't cut myself anymore, I haven't in.....I don't even know, many months I think. Maybe 5 months? No idea. But what's the point in starting again, I've already gone this long without it. I can't stand the fact that I've been doing it for about 10 years. I remember when I first started doing it, I was about 11 or 12. I was upset I don't think, I think the main reason I started was because I was bored and realized a cool way to entertain myself was to....oh wait a minute. No that wasn't the first time...ok I was thinking of when I was in hebrew school(this is what I was thinking was my first time), they would make us go to these long ass services on Saturdays. I'd be SO bored sitting there, and of course had no friends that I could whisper too. So I started dragging my nails up and down my arm, over and over again till enough skin came off that my arm was completely red(not with blood), and little purple dots would come to the surface. But actually I just remembered the first time was in 6th grade, so yes I was 11. When my friend said to me "Hey, I want to get out of class..you have long nails, can you scratch my arm to make it look like I have a rash?". So I did. Then I did it to myself, thinking maybe I could get out of class too. But then I changed my mind and just stayed in class. And thus it began. Whenever I tell people how young I started, which mind you is not too often, they seem shocked. I guess self injury itself is shocking, but for someone to imagine an 11 year old self injuring, it's hard to take. Not that I'm throwing a pity party here, just odd when you think back and you're like wow, I was fucked up. Then you realize hey, I still am! I think it's hard for people to imagine an 11 year old being depressed. People think depression can only hit once someone is older. When I think back to trying to kill myself at age 13, even I can't believe how depressed someone so young could be. I remember, being praticly paralyzed inside(and outside) from so much internal pain, such intense self hatred. Nobody noticed. I hid it pretty well. To this day, most people don't know I suffer from depression(mild to severe, depending on the day) and have my whole life. Most people would say I'm a happy person, if not a bit too bitter and cold. What can I say, I'm a good actress. It makes me sad to wonder if I will ever find a "cure", if I will ever find a way to feel normal, if there is such a thing as normal. I hope this Prozac works, that would be great. Actually I haven't even taken it in 3 days, I need to go pick up my perscription! I feel like an idiot saying "I suffer from depression", it seems like such a trendy thing, like everyone has depression now, as if it's contagious like a cold. It is a very real problem though, it's not just about being sad. It's about being able to function...I can't function properly. And I hate it. Knowing I'm capable of 100%, yet I'm only functioning at 50%, I absolutly hate it. I can only compair my life to....in the movie The Never Ending Story, you know the part where he's in the swamp of eternal sadness? And he's walking through the muck? Yup, that's my life. Fun fun. Now I feel like watching that movie. It's so sad when Artex dies at that part :( Ok now that I've thoroughly depressed you, here's something weird that will cheer you up, or at least weird you out: A weird cow movie Leave a message Last Entry ~ Next Entry Enter email to occasionally get special or pointless updates: