Prinsexx -> RE: Self-harm and masochism (3/9/2011 4:57:48 PM)
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ORIGINAL: ChainedExistence A number of years ago, I was a cutter. Unlike what others have said, I never experienced any kind of endorphin rush from it. My life was in turmoil at the time, and cutting felt like a way to prove to myself that I wasn't dead. I would cut until the effort exhausted me...and that would only come after I carved myself up like a Thanksgiving turkey-cutting my arms, my thighs, my hips, my stomach, my breasts. The only thing it seemed to do was keep me from killing myself. There was blood, there was pain, I was alive, and I would be forced to get up, clean the blood off my body, and get through another day. If it gave me anything, it gave me some sense of control over my uncontrolled life. I was definitely aware that no one would understand it, and that I needed to be secretive about it. Cutting was a solitary and lonely thing. It was desperation, and did nothing to improve my life. At best, I was surviving. It only stopped after the secret was out, and I spent some time with a great counselor. While we never talked directly about the cutting, dealing with the issues that triggered it helped. I can't really see the how the things I do now relate other than the fact that both involve some pain and marks. I enjoy the play I am involved in. I laugh, I sometimes cry, but all in all, it feels loving. I feel closer to Master, I feel happy and fulfilled. I am not "getting through" another day- I am living my life. I didn't cut because I relished the pain, and I didn't get involved in BDSM because I craved the feelings that cutting gave me. I am sure there are people who cut for entirely different reasons, and maybe for them, BDSM and cutting aren't that far apart. But for me, they couldn't be more different. I hear this. And I understand exactly how your cutting made you feel in control. To the same extent and to the same degree I had a spate of bulimia. The prging part of the cyvle made me feel in control of the uncontrollable. In the midst of the worst turnoil, at that age, at least I could have a ritual, feel something, and control what had, only a few hours before, felt out of control.
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