I have had things happen to me in my lifetime – many not so
pleasant things, and among those things, there are 3 in mind that cause people
years and years of torture or agony. Not
me. These three things have caused other
people to self-mutilate in order to dull the pain of the event. Not me.
These things cause people to have MANY triggers through their lives that
cause anxiety or panic when stumbled upon.
I only have one. I honestly find
my own lack of emotion and empathy a little disturbing. Why am I that way? Why am I not on the street holding up a sign
advocating this or protesting the very nature of that? What is wrong with me that I have never
broken down and felt the full effect of these events? In my sleep, I find myself jolting awake, out
of breath, heart racing, tears stinging my eyes. In the harsh light of day however, when I
hear someone is a ‘cutter’ because of this or that, I honestly want to shake
them and tell them to stop their whining and get some therapy. I have NO sympathy for cutting. I remember, when I was a teenager, I took a
pin and scratched my boyfriend’s initials into my skin because I wanted it to
scar there. Stupid, yes, I know, but I
was not looking for sympathy and I certainly wasn’t ‘trying to numb the
pain’. If any friend of mine would have
come up to me then and told me they were cutting themselves, on purpose, I
probably would not have hesitated to tell them how stupid they were. That’s harsh, and mean. I know that.
People deal differently. On the
other side of that coin, however, I know there are some events that are with
you. Even though I rarely react to my
own events, they are ALWAYS there. They
don’t go away. They are with me
always. That is NOT to say they DEFINE
me. They shouldn’t. Tragedies shouldn’t define a person. Perhaps that is why I am so unsympathetic
with people who cut, because they are allowing it to define them instead of
dusting themselves off and fighting their way out of the muck and mire. The people that fight every day to live their
lives and define themselves, those are the people I admire. As I was writing this, I came across a news
story about a young girl that had been freed from a concentration camp. Her foster mother told her 'Look, darling,
hold my hands. You will never forget this experience. You can't. It happened to
you, it's real. But put it in your soul deep, deep down and don't let it live
on your skin, because this is a beautiful life and almost all the people on
this planet are beautiful, loving people. And you're going to know them and
you're going to live a beautiful life filled with joy.' I agree completely.
