where it all started

I wish everything is as easy as you seen in a movie. A scene with no audio or maybe a painful soudtrack. A son one day comes to his mother's room and drop a note to her hand. It titled "how to deal with a borderline son" or "I'm gay, please love me". And then the mom would start crying but eventually when she comes to her sense, she would run to her son and gives him a warm hug. HAHAHAHAHAHA...yea, life's not that beautiful people. Too much proud and shame or too much judgment that people would forget about the true meaning of their relationship. What's important about relationship. How to care and understand.

I've tried you know, telling my mother about my symptoms. She even caught my wound twice. She just cried and didn't do anything about it. She just keep saying that I should pray more to God. Well, mother, there are things that just cannot be fixed by praying. She blamed herself and then she would feel sorry for herself as a bad mother. Where do I stand? nowhere. I was left alone with my pain to deal again.

I've been cutting myself since fourth grades. It was on school, in art class. That day we have to bring a cutter for artwork. My buddy then dared me to cut my hand. I did. On my palm several times. I remembered his face, he was shocked hahaha...I don't remember how it continued but I guess the pain sensation left me wanting more. A dare perhaps for myself. Something to prove myself that I'm not weak or a coward. In time I learned that the enormous pain I felt in my chest can be outdone by the pain I made in my hand. It always a constant relieve. It doesn't need to take a lot of time to learn that it helps while my father cheated on my mother twice and finally left us. At least there is something in life that I can take control of. My wound, my cause, my heal.

So it was for 13 years that I cut myself. If I had wanted it to show off, it wouldn't take that much of time before people would try to jump in and help. For me it is a way of coping. Like some people would watch movies or listens to music or take a walk in the park. Nothing weird or stupid about it. As long as it still works and keep me moving forward, cutting would never be out of my options.

today I'm seeing my university teacher to talk about this. She knew about my condition. I don't know if talking with her will help me, but she's a psychologist. I thought I should try to talk again to a professional about this. Coz I feel like I'm back to square one but I want to get better. Not. hahahaha...whatever you know. I'll live.