Hi there, I'm Me and Me. But since that's a mouthful, and not my real name (I've got a strange, one-of-a-kind name, and so easily traced), you can call me Em. (It's Me backwards. Get it? Haha... okay, not very funny.)
I started SI when I was about 12. I think. It really bothers me that I don't remember the first cut, the first time, not even how old I was. I didn't write it down or anything. Anyway, I got the idea when I was at a birthday party. We were playing a game similar to truth or dare, but it was only truth. Pretty much 'whoever has done -----, raise your hand'. It was then that I realized how boring I was. I listened to my parents, did my homework, had a perfect life. Nothing exciting, nothing unique. So when someone said 'whoever has ever cut themself, raise your hand', I decided to try to pretend to be more exciting. I got lots of amazement and shock, which was another punch in the gut- nobody expected me to do something that wasn't average and perfect and prissy.
A while after that, I did my first cut. For the first few months, I only did it one or two times a week, maybe less. I used a little jackknife that was rather dull, and scratched more than it sliced. Rather ineffective. Over the years, I've experimented a lot- I tried a larger knife, a kitchen knife, hunting knives, sewing needles, pins, boxcutters, shaving razors, even pencils and scissors. My steel of choice are boxcutters- they cut deep with very little effort, give a lot of pain and a lot of blood, then scabs quickly for ease of hiding. I tried burning, heating up a paper clip over a lighter, but the blisters were irritating and gross. The lack of blood was a letdown, too. Bruising required loud banging sounds, and didn't give me the sharp sting I wanted. I do small cuts, all over my body, mostly the backs of my hands (passed off as paper cuts, or even shrugging disarms any curiosity), my hips, or my wrist under the five hair elastics I wear.
So I've been cutting off and on for almost five years, and consistently for the past year and a half.

I do it for the rush that comes with the pain, the exquisite feeling of the endorphine rush, the heady flood of power and control, that I have the power to do this.

And the independence, doing something so wrong, something so unexpected, something that's so unlike 'me'. Hence Me and Me- the one most people see, and the one I let out sometimes, who doesn't give a damn about anyone. I haven't cut in... six hours? Not very impressive, but I'm not sure I'm looking to stop. Just maybe to slow down a bit, stop escalating.
That's Me. And Me.
This post has been edited by Me and Me: 09 March 2010 - 06:54 PM