Hello, I'm a cutter...

Why do I cut? What turned me into a self hater who scars his body and often wants to die?

I'm a 44 year old man who has seen his world fall apart two years ago. I was seriously injured on the job to the point of full disability. I can no longer do the job I lived to do, which was Police work. Add to that the fact that I suffer horrific pain everyday due to my back injury. I have crushed a total of 9 discs in my upper, middle and lower back and have to use a cane to walk.

Not only do I have permanent nerve damage, but as a result I lost function of my bladder and need to urinate with a catheter and a leg bag. I have had several surgeries to include a two level cervical fusion, an interstim implant for my bladder and a Morphine drug pump implant. Despite these surgeries, the Morphine pump and oral pain meds I am still in a great deal of pain all day and night; awake and sleeping. I still have a few more surgeries I must endure in the next year. This physical pain alone is one reason why I cut myself.

Since I don't have any control of the constant pain related to my back injury I at least have control over the pain I endure when I cut myself. I don't scratch myself...when I cut I cut deep and I have scars over 70% of my body. I often cut out of anger or frustration, because I lost my passion for life when I lost my career as a Police Officer. It's extremely difficult to go from being physically able to chase bad guys, make arrests and help others to someone who can barely walk and is in constant pain.

Over the past two years I have gone from a mentally confident and competent person to a mental basket case. Now I must say that prior to my career ending injury I suffered from PTSD and bouts of depression related to my Police experiences while employed by NYPD during 9-11 and survivor's guilt. Also, growing up I would from time to time cut myself. Oh yeah and when I was 13 years old I slit my wrist and OD on medication in an attempt to end my life. It was really tough covering up the huge ass scar on my wrist, especially while applying for work as a Police Officer. I don't regret the scar, I regret the fact that I lived. Looking back I guess there have been many times where I was in harms way and could of, should have died, but didn't. This happened more often of course during my Ten years of Police work. Looking back now I can honestly say that I wanted to be a Police Officer so I could die. Had you asked me while I was still working as a Police Officer I would have said it was so I could help people and save lives.

Anyways, I now suffer from a whole host of mental disorders, such as Major Depressive Disorder, BiPolar Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD and a couple of other disorders that escape me at this time. I'm taking a handful of medication daily in the hopes of controlling my mental and physical pain.

It's not working, I can't sleep and the urges to cut keep getting stronger. I also envision me cutting my own throat with a knife. I can be sitting on the couch watching a TV show and out of no where I see it...I see the knife in my hand held to my throat. I wonder, is this how I am supposed to die? I always hoped it would be via lead poison ( aka a bullet). No matter, I keep cutting and my wife sees the cuts and scars and naturally freaks out. I'm putting her through hell and that just adds to my anxiety and frustration that often boils over and results in even more cutting! I wish I could post pictures so you can see my scars and know that this is for real. I'm living a nightmare and I'm ashamed of myself for being so weak. Two years ago I was a decent role model for other Officers and the community I lived to protect and serve. Now...now I am suicidal and spend most of my time at home, in pain and alone.

The urges are becoming too great and I'm fast losing any control. My cuts are becoming deeper and deeper. How can I cut out the ugly side of me when...

[ Continued ]

Okay so I caught my fiance using my email to find girls on Craigslist o guess to have sex with. I was just going through my email and happen to see it i know it wasnt me because that was the night he was using my phone while i stayed at my mom's house amd some of the things he was messaging to these girls was really upsetting I confronted him about it at first he insisted he didnt remember ever doing it Then he said he might have had a moment of weakness. Then he kept insisting on how We changed in a good way because while he did that he said he realized he loves me amd I'm the only girl in his life and that he only wants me. And. What really bother me is that this happened not even a week after he proposed and altogether We been together almost three years and We have a baby on the way in less than two months. Before all this I would find porn on his phone Where he would watch it or download videos or pictures and it really makes me feel like crap. I mean I know I'm nothing really to look at I put on thirty pounds while being pregnant and sometimes it's like he don't want to touch me like he is completely discusted by me and it's always like he wants some super skinny girl that he can wrap his arMs around and have sex with all night I mean We don't even have sex like We used to it seems like he is watching the TVs more than he is even looking at me I can't really lose weight right now being pregnant and all. I don't have the pretty face or the perky boobs that he wants I just wish I could magically change how I look completely. I Love him so much I would spend all the money in the world to be the completely sexy girl he wants. D':

WHERE TO START????....OH YEAH, ZEE BEGINNING, LOL>>>>>>>>>> THIS IS LOOOOONG!
Im 23, got diagnosed a month ago after a FAILED suicide attempt....

The day I tried to kill myself was mothers day, it triggered so much and after a telephone conversation with my dad where he was basically telling me to be more open with him, I just lost it.....

I was repeatedly raped from age 6 to 9 by 3 men who some how decided to make me their toy....my biological mother is what you call a ''SHEBEEN QUEEN". She was that drunk lady down you street you always heard stories about, from the many men who come in and out of her house, poor condition of the house and how her kids just had to deal with all this......*depends on where u grew up*.....anyways, she wasnt around most nights and during the day she either slept or tried to fight off her hang over....it felt normal for me, living like that, I didnt know there was any other way a family lived but it all changed when I met my father, at 6 years old......I didnt know I had a father till I met him, I never questioned who my daddy was because I ddnt know what a daddy was........

life was a bit different during the small occassions he would come and buy me gifts, "ILL NEVER FORGET MY 1ST BIKE"....i felt somehow loved when he bought me stuff and gave my mother money and 3 out of 7 nights we had food to eat at home......I really loved my father......school for me is a blur, dont know why, I had different recollections of certain events but its like i slept whenever I went to school and woke up when it was over.......I remember the 3 men who did things to me and threatened me repeatedly but somehow I dont remember doing homework and writing tests at that age.........
I was around 9 when i started visiting my father during school holidays and eventually met my step mother and older brother. i remember how kind and gentle my step mom was and how I tried to sleep with my older brother when I was 9 and how the nanny caught me naked on the floor and my brother standing by the door looking confused..........that episode was not shared with my father or step mother.......I thought all boys touched girls the way the 3 men touched me.......

anyways, long story short, my step mom was a social worker who noticed my weird behaviour around my brother and other male siblings, I dont know how I acted weird as I have never asked ..........my step mom had to literally hit me for me to tell her about the 3 men back at home....I got taken away from my mother and out in a place of safety after many questions and cross examinations.......that year was the best, I had soo much fun, even though I started being a bully........

a year later I started living with my father, wasnt allowed to talk aor see my biological mother and thats when my step mom became "the grinch".......i wasnt allowed to sit alone with my dad and my brother mostly lived with his biological mother.......LONG STORY SHORT: my step mom was emotionally and physically abusing me and my father being a busy business man was not around all the time.....I acted out by bullying kids at school and got into lots of trouble and went from a star student to a barely passing student.....somehow i did well in school when I was living with my mother and when I was at the place of safety.......anyways, I mostly bullied boys, started hating them, purberty came and i hated them more as I ddnt understand why my body was changing and "crushes"........

High school came along and I was put into a boarding school, learnt about sex, drugs and alcohol......my dad was very strict, wasnt allowed to have friends over when i was in primary......my dad did hit me many times when i got into trouble, its his way of discipline....anyways, I failed 1 year in high school barely made it out alive, developed many eating disorders and was obese by the time I finished high school............made friends, and i did love being away...

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I've had dp/dr, emphasis on the DR, for about 4-5 months. I'm 19 years old. I know I got it after a visit to the ER a few months ago for chest pains, which turned out to be acid reflux. On top of that, I was and still am having migraines and very intense sharp pains in my head. I do have an appt with a neurologist.
Anyway, the world has felt completely fake and dreamy to me starting a few weeks or days after that visit to the hospital. I know my anxiety spiked an extraordinary amount, the worst it's ever been. I've been suffering from panic attacks since I was about 9 or 10 -- I remember sort of feeling derealized once back then too. However I didn't process it as intensely, so it went away quickly, plus I was young and my mind was occupied almost always.
I'm just terrified at the moment, because I've always been tortured by existential thoughts to begin with, but having dp/dr makes them so much worse. Unbearably worse -- they would send me into a spiralling panic where I'd just cry and cry for days on end, and I hate being alone with my thoughts -- I've been sleeping in my mom's bed This dreamy feeling is so real, I can't always convince myself that I'm not dreaming, or that the world ISN'T fake. And that is what's been getting worse. It's like my brain is convincing me everything is fake,oh well. I feel completely hopeless at this point.
My panic attacks lately have been about how I can't believe I'm going through this. I can't believe this is actually happening, so my brain says "it's not" and now I'm fk'd.
Will everything ever feel real again?
Will I ever enjoy life again?
I think another reason I'm stuck in this is because I'm not in school, and I'm unemployed, There's only so much I can do to get a job. I've applied everywhere.
I have memory problems, panic attacks in which I feel as if I've dropped acid, and the world feels so fake I can't believe it's not. Writing all this down/talking about it does not help one bit. I've purchased 2 books in the mail that are supposed to help me--one should come tomorrow, so wish me luck xx
This is one fk'd up anxiety symptom.
(Hard to process it even is one anymore)

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