Morning-After Regrets - BEDA Day 1

Last night, I had a one night stand with cutting. Writing my last post triggered me, ironically enough. I just wanted to know what it would do.

At one point, I had a box of one hundred box cutter blades in my Amazon cart. $12.08 with shipping. It seemed so easy to get a lifetime supply of the stereotypical cutter's razors. But I texted Kelly and Laura and they told me not to. I had a hard time figuring out how to delete it from my cart, but I did. It scared me how close I came. I also went through the cutting tag on Tumblr. That was probably a really bad idea. It was kind of like thinspiration for somebody with an eating disorder. I did see a post where somebody said if you're thinking about cutting, don't. It's so hard to stop. But I ignored it.

I started out just scratching my right thigh with the pointy end of a nail file. I drew big grids of welts across my leg. The way the welts formed fascinated me. Rows of raised skin, slightly red. I was scratching, but not cutting.

Then the scratching wasn't enough. I needed to break skin. I wanted to draw a little bit of blood. Not gushing, just a drop or two. I remembered the cuticle remover I had in my manicure kit. It scrapes cuticles away with a thing that has like two prongs. It kind of digs it out. I looked, but some of the implements in my manicure kit were gone. I wondered if my sister had stolen them. She doesn't know that my medication changed because I considered hurting myself; she just knows that it wasn't working right anymore. But she's a smart girl. I wouldn't put it past her to have figured it out. Then I looked in the box of old nail stuff in my closet. I didn't find the other stuff, but I did find a pair of cuticle nippers. They have handles kind of like pliers. They look like small bone snips.

I opened them as wide as they'd go and dragged it across my leg. A satisfying welt appeared. It was more than a scratch, but not a full-fledged cut. I dug the tip in a little bit and pressed as I dragged. I drew some blood that time. I stopped to look at the thin line of red on my leg. I had finally gone past thoughts to actual action. I wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing or not.

All in all, I drew blood in a dozen places on my right thigh, made probably 25 scratches, and scratched my left thigh in three places.

Then it started to sting. What I had done sunk into my thick skull, and I cried. I failed Laura, Kelly, and my best friend Faith. They had all been telling me that they loved me, that I shouldn't do it, and that I was stronger than this. I was selfish and stupid and reckless and did it anyway. I texted them all that I had done it. Kelly got upset, Laura told me to throw them away, and Faith was really sad. How could I do that to them? They love me as much as anyone in my family. I was stupid and so so SELFISH. I threw the cuticle nippers in the bathroom trash, where I'd be less likely to fish them out. Then I told myself never again.

All the consequences swirled through my head. I would have to be really careful around my sister. I would have to wear pants or long shorts, and it's warming up a lot here. I don't know how long it'll take for them to heal. I didn't think this through at all. I had no thoughts about what would happen after I cut. All of my thoughts were in the moment. Holy shit, I'm doing this. I've gone off the deep end. I know this is wrong but it feels a tiny bit right. Where is my sense?


I felt better after I cut. I don't think it was because of the actual act of cutting, I think it was the conclusion of the will-I-or-won't-I that I've been going through for a month or so. Guess what, Megan. You did it. And not a damn thing has changed. Now you've got this to worry about on top of everything else.

I don't think I'll cut again. I need to pay really close attention to my moods and keep busy. The biggest part f my problem last night was that I dwelled on it for two hours. It seemed like I had less and less to lose the more time went on. From now on, though, I'm going to divert my attention at the first sign of trouble. I'll color, read, write, watch TV, go on a walk, sing, play Wii, play Mancala by myself, make my sister play a game with me, clean my room, do laundry, SOMETHING. Anything but hurt myself.

Side note: Today I'm starting Blog Every Day April! Not every post will be about cutting, I promise. I'm just going through emotional turmoil right now.