What the Cut????????

Well folks, today is THE day! A BIG day for me. A day to celebrate!

Today is my anniversary of 10 years being self-injury free. Wow!

Being such a big day for me about such a massive and yet secretive issue, I'd really like to use this as an opportunity to share a bit of my story and raise awareness of this secretive coping mechanism. So go get a cuppa, and sit down for a read inside my self-injury journey. <3

While Im near the beginning, I want to get a couple of si-housekeeping out of the way....

I want you to know that self injury can take many many forms. It can include but is not limited to the following: cutting, tearing, slicing, puncturing, burning, banging, hair pulling, skin picking, and in rare cases, amputation and death. 

Some debatable forms of si can include: eating disorders,alcohol and/or drug dependencies, tattooing and piercings.

There are many different names for self injury but the most common are: Self Injury (duh!), Self Harm & Self Mutilation.

What turns these actions into self injury? Taken from my paper "Self Injury, My Perspective",

The primary factor in determining whether a wound can be viewed as self-injury is the motive behind it. If it has been inflicted as a coping mechanism or a form of release from intense emotion, this is what makes it self-injury. Some young people might often see their friends doing it, so to be ‘cool’ they copy it. This isn’t generally classed as self-injury and is something that should be discouraged before it becomes a coping mechanism.

Something that self injury should not be confused with is attempted suicide. They are vastly different - one is usually a coping mechanism and the other is a way to end it all. While accidental suicide may happen with self injury it is absolutely NOT the intention of the self injurer.


Spoiler Alert. if you are not feeling safe today, bookmark this page and read it when you're in a better place. There IS a lot of mention of Self Injury.
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Ok, on with it!....

So, my journey through self-injury (si for short) began in 1998 on a day when my foster parents rejected me. It's a story that doesn't need to be shared right now. But it plunged me into a deep dark depression that lasted 5 years. I was being heavily supported through this time by my church family - and my pastors and their families in particular.

I remember the night I first cut. I was sitting on the floor of my loungeroom cutting out stencils (being the crafty girl i am) and I thought of scratching the surface of my skin with the craft knife - you know, like when you're a kid and you grab a stick and write on ur skin leaving red marks? At first it was nothing. Then I wondered what would happen if I scratched a bit harder, and before I knew it, I had a gash that needed stitches. In MY mind, it was curiosity - I used to always watch dad on the farm killing the sheep and I do remember wondering if my body under my skin looked the same.

I didn't tell anyone for a couple of days, but then one of my pastors came around to say goodbye as he was going on Long Service Leave. For some weird reason I showed it to him. I have no idea what I thought would happen, or why I showed him. I remember him saying quite roughly, "What are you doing? Is this your way of telling me not to leave?". Then, all of a sudden, everyone seemed to know. It wasn't my choice to make it public. I guess when I showed him, I unknowingly gave him permission to share my secret with the world?????

I still don't know why I really did it or why I showed him, but it was the first of many many cuts that I sadly made on my body.

Cutting for me fulfilled many purposes. It was initially a coping mechanism; a punishment; a reward; a way of dealing with intense emotions; a stress release but over time it turned into a guilty pleasure which then turned into an addiction.

People would ask me if it hurt and I would honestly reply that no it didn't. I had learnt that when you cut when you're emotionally charged, the adrenalin pumping through your body shuts off the nerve endings and instead creates a euphoric endorphin rush as the blades cuts your skin.

People often ask me why I did this to myself. Here are my reasons:

• I used to cut to punish those who had hurt me in my past - I simply cannot intentionally hurt others and so for me, it was a form of revenge. I took out my 'revenge' on myself instead of those people. 
• I cut when I felt bad, but I also cut as a reward for good things happening.
• I hurt me as self-punishment. If I stuffed up or did something wrong, the easy solution was to cut.
• I did it when I felt scared or lonely or fearful or angry. As the cuts deepened and the blood came to the surface, I felt incredible relief as, to me, the badness of who I was, 'bled out of me'.
• I si'ed for comfort. The feeling of going into the hospital to get stitches was always so comforting (if you got the right medical staff who were sympathetic to you) as they nurtured me - even if they were only paid to do it.
• It was also a form of self-nurturing, even though that might not make sense.
• It was a cry for help. Enough said.
• Cutting gave me a sense of control over a life that had spun waaaaay out on control. I could control my pain even if I could't control anything else.
• I cut to feel alive. As I have a Dissociative Disorder, cutting help me feel grounded to reality. The times when I was numb and dissociating were always my most dangerous times as I wasn't aware of what I was doing. These were always my most severe injuries - and in much greater numbers each time.
• Lastly, it was a safety/coping mechanism. It was important for me to know that I could rely on myself when I was in a difficult space. Knowing that I could use self-injury as a relief and a release became a safety mechanism for me. As soon as I made a cut, it felt like all the emotional pressure in my mind was released and dissolved into nothing. If I knew I could help myself in a crisis by cutting—even the tiniest bit, then I knew this meant I wouldn't be likely to try to hurt myself more than I needed to. I carried my ‘tools’ everywhere so that if need be, immediate release was available at all times, reducing my need for others to carry my burdens for me (unless of course, I hurt myself too deeply).

I know some of these reasons sound pretty far out and illogical, but remember, my head was sick. I had severe depression (which turned out to be Bipolar) and I had serious, serious issues I was dealing with.

I am so incredibly thankful to the people God appointed as my support network. There was a bible study group (mentioned in another post) who I will forever love deeply for their love, care and commitment with me, no matter what I did (I think I freaked them out a few times, not surprisingly tho). There was also the amazing staff of my church home including the pastors who walked with me every step of the way, as well as random church friends who showered me with love. 

The professional support network I had also played a massive part in my recovery from SI. My Christian counsellor, who was phenomenal. She always understood it took more than prayers to heal me, but also understood it took more than therapy & medication. The combination of prayer AND therapy AND medication was the perfect fit for me to move forward. We really learnt how to tackle this whole self injury thing together as it was a new thing for her too. What a team we made!
She is an incredible lady - and I am honoured to call her a friend nowdays. <3

I also had a psychiatrist who monitored my medications AND my amazing awesome psychologist who did a lot of DBT & CBT therapy with me as well as the staff at my local hospital's psych ward. They were all wonderful.

There was also my online support network. I was heavily involved in the BUS (Bodies Under Siege) online support group run by a lady called Deb Martinson. It was a place for fellow si'ers to come together, share ideas of hiding scars, offering support, explanations of medications, signs and symptoms etc. I developed some incredible friendships and without the support of these other people who were also self-injurers I honestly don't know if I would have 'made it'.

Do you know what? Through this group, I am actually one of a number of case studies in a book by Jan Sutton called 'Healing the Hurt Within'. How exciting to know parts of me are in a published book.

What was my worst cutting moment? Did I ever think I'd cut too much? 

Spoiler alert here for graphic story
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I remember the worst time I had cut. For the first time, it really scared me and stopped me cutting for about three months.
I was sitting on a bean bag in my house and had the teli on. I had been eyeing off a vein/artery on my upper leg for literally months. It was tantalizing; seductive, and that night I decided it was time to try it out.

I sat there with a container to collect my blood (so I didn't have to clean up later) and put pressure on that vein. It suddenly almost 'popped' and the blade cut through my skin and all of a sudden it was on like donkey kong! My blood started spurting in great gushes. The container was no where near enough to hold it all. I ended up filling three containers (equiv of about 1 1/2 ltrs I'm guessing) and managed to drag myself, the phone and another container out onto the front porch where I rang 000.

An ambulance was on its way. I was fading in and out of consciousness as the loss of blood was ever so much more than I had anticipated. I was scared. I tried to get up to go inside to get jeans to wear but every time I tried to move my leg, the spurts of blood just sprayed EVERYwhere. I gave up and sat in my blood-soaked t-shirt and underwear. 

I don't remember much of that trip at all except waking up at one point and we were on our way to emergency. I also remember vaguely, being wheeled into emergency and hearing that someone had stabbed themselves by accident with my knife. I felt absolutely awful. Bc even though I knew my blood was 'clean', they didn't and that poor person would feel horrible until she got blood tests back. The next thing I remember is waking up to having 12 staples in my leg and yelling at them to give me anesthetic.

End of spoiler
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I won't go into any more detail here bc I figure I've already completely grossed you out and I am sorry if that is the case. I guess this story lets people out there know to not mess with this stuff. I could have died (and people have been known to die from going to far). To this day I can't remember if I had blood transfusions or not. I remember talk of it, but have no idea if it happened. I think they said I lost over 2 litres of blood. All I know, is that is scared me a LOT and I didn't do it for 3 months after that.

Brief spoiler
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Another experience I had with cutting.... and this might seem really weird to some of you.... bc of my association with blood (and the fact that is was Jesus' blood that was shed for us - for ME) I almost choked once when I went for communion.

When you're not in the best head space, things go into your mind in really weird ways. My dear friend (and Pastor at the time) Peter, was serving me the wine at communion, saying the words that go with it ("Take and drink, this is my blood shed for you" - we believe that Jesus body and blood is what we partake of in communion). I had the mouthful of wine in my mouth and for some reason, my brain got stuck on the word blood. I couldn't swallow as I honestly believe at that moment in time my mouth was full of blood. It was weird. I almost choked and the look on Peter's face was shock. I walked back to my chair but I couldn't swallow. It took about 10 minutes of talking myself into swallowing that wine. All I could think of was that as blood it was gonna clot in my mouth soon if I didn't swallow it while it was runny. How gross to think that with such a precious gift as Jesus' blood. Blood played such a massive part and had huge symbolism for me through my cutting years.

End spoiler
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I often get asked how did I stop self injury. It was quite simple really. 

I had cut myself one night and was waiting in A&E for stitches. I knew (after 5 years of visiting) that I had to bring a book, a pillow, phone charger and a drink with me to the hospital. I was sitting there reading the book I chose. It was a non-fiction book called A Bright Red Scream and is about self injury. I was rereading this book for the gazillionth time and was near the end. The chapter I was reading was about a hospital in Chicago where there is an entire wing dedicated to self injury. It explained what happened in there, the daily events, the therapy on offer etc. 

My thoughts on it? "How utterly unfair! Why can't we have one of those here????" And then.... the penny dropped!

I didn't need a hospital in another country to provide for me the supports that I needed. I had the professional support, I had the friendships, I had the support of my own network, I had the hospital down the road if I needed it. I had every single thing that chapter spoke of - only it wasn't done up in a neat little package bundled together with a ribbon on top. It was all around me, in an informal way. It made me realise I had the power to change things for MYself. I could do this. God had given me every resource needed.

Right then and there I decided that it was enough! And I stopped cold turkey. Just like that!

I have fallen off the wagon a couple of times about two and a half years ago, but when I did try to cut, it just didn't do it for me anymore. There was no release of the emotional pressure. I did feel frustrated at times as the only way that worked fast and immediately previously, didn't work anymore. But what it also meant, was that I had all new ways to deal with that pressure. I had healthy coping strategies and I could do it. 


For me, about half to three quarters of the way through my self injury, something about it changed. It turned from a coping mechanism into a real honest to goodness addiction. It became something that I got a high from - in the same way that I assume gamblers, drug addicts, alcoholics get when they do their 'drug of choice'. It became a massive endorphin rush and while a part of me begged to stop the cutting, another part of me thrived on the high that it gave me. Those endorphins were out of control. Some argue that it's not an addiction while others argue it could be. All I know is that for me it definitely turned into one.  The sight of the blood wud get me high, stitches wud get me high, almost anything associated with it would give me that feeling. So when I went cold turkey, it was a shock to the system a bit, but maybe the bigger shock was that once I'd made up my mind, that was it. DONE!

As mentioned earlier in this post, I have written a 34 page paper with the intention of reaching out to those professional people who deal with self injury at a grassroots level. I presented it in partnership with my (now) former counsellor all over Adelaide (to Social Workers, Youth Workers, Counsellors, even a school etc) as a Professional Development Seminar to rave reviews. We even presented it at TheMHS Australasian Conference which wa s a real honour (paid for by the government mental health, yay). 

I am looking to get it published, so any ideas on how to do it would be AWEsome (help, how on earth do I do this???). I have often passed on copies to people I meet who need that extra support in understanding self injury (and mental health issues in general), and strategies to help cope with the intense emotions in healthy rational ways. After all, with education comes knowledge, and with knowledge comes power and with power comes understanding whic all equals greater compassion - that's what it's all about for me. If YOU are interested in obtaining a half edited copy, let me know.

Another question I get asked a lot is would I ever consider getting the scars on my arms removed.

My answer is that while I hate how they look, I honestly don't think I would, even if I had the money too. For starters, every single scar has it's own story. Of course, being so many I can't remember every single one, but they are there. It also symbolises the hard work that many people put in to helping me recover. Also, if I deleted those scars, I would feel like Im 'deleting' the hard work I did to move through the trauma and darkness and it's that which builds character, knowledge, wisdom, compassion. I would be deleting that which has made me, ME.

But the most important thing for me is this: if I got rid of my scars, how are others going to know they are not alone?

Let me share this little story with you.... When I was studying at TAFE about 3 years after I gave up cutting, I happened to take off my jumper. I got a lot of surprised looks and realised I hadn't told anyone about my cutting yet. I told the friends I had made and after that class, a young girl (maybe 18 y/o) came up to me and quietly asked if I really did cut myself. When i told her that I used to do it, she told me that she did it too and had never told a single person. 
Wow! I was blown away by her trust in sharing that with me - and it made it clear to me that I can use my arms as a witness and hope for people who struggle with these demons the way I did. There is no WAY Im getting rid of my scars if it means it can help break the secrecy of self injury for even one person. And that is that! 

Of course, there are some people who I worry that my scars will give them unhealthy ideas, but if they ask me about them, I will make sure they know it was a really unwise decision on my part and not a road you want to go down. (And I have had to do this a few times, esp when they are people who I know are in a bad space).

If you happen to know someone who does injure themselves or is speaking about it, can I just give you a little bit of advise from a cutter who is 'in remission' or 'sober'?

• If you have no idea what you're doing, let ur friend know, so you can work on it together.
• Build a relationship of trust with them - so important.
• Have a knowledge of first aid.
• Do some research around self injury
• Have some strategies to offer as an alternate way of dealing with intense emotions.
• Find the balance of discussing their destructive behaviour with times where you can have fun, lighten the mood.
• If you can help, please do!
• Do not go hide sharp objects. It's what the drs advise and it's a crap piece of advice! If someone wants to hurt themselves, they will find any, ANY way to do it. You will be stunned at what can be used to cause injury.
• Be respectful, honest and work along side the person, don't have a saviour complex.
• Set appropriate boundaries
• Know your own limits
• Take time for yourself!!!!

There is one last thing that I really want to share with you. Yeah, it's another 'God-thing'. I can't help myself......

When the movie The Passion of the Christ was released, I had a massive wake up call (as if I needed another one). It was after I had stopped cutting (I think), and I was watching that movie, crying along with everyone else in that cinema. It came to the part where Jesus is flogged mercilessly. As those flogging tools ripped the skin from his flesh I saw that what was left were many wounds that looked exactly like my arms. The shock of that realisation hit me like a thunderbolt.

Tears flooded me anew as I literally felt God say gently to me "See my child, you didn't need to do that to yourself bc my Son went through it for you so that you didn't have too".

It was the most bittersweet, heart wrenching, grace-giving thing I've ever experienced. I think I cried all night from the grief of that message. 
And every time I see that movie, I can feel the pain he must have felt as I see the gaping wounds that MY knife made on his beautiful body.

I could literally write about cutting for years and years, but Ill leave it now. I hope you have learnt something that could touch you or someone near you in a positive way. Thank you for reading my anniversary post and celebrating along with me.

Much love
L xoxo



End Note:

I really want to emphasise that I am not glorifying self injury - not at all. I am merely sharing my story of learning, pain and hope with the wish that someone out there will feel less alone in their own struggles. I also write this hoping that you, the reader, have learnt something that will give you a little more compassion when spending time with a 'cutter' whether you know they hurt themselves or not. 

Some of the things I have spoken of here are actually in my paper "Self Injury - My Perspective". It covers many topics including: The cycle of self injury; what did/did not help me; strategies to deal with intense emotions; maintaining my decision to be free of si; resources and comments here and there from my counsellor.

Don't let this destructive behaviour be a secret anymore. 

Speak it out, raise awareness, be vocal, be passionate!

L xo