The One Where I Close A Door

TRIGGER ALERT - I discuss self-harm in this post and go into fairly explicit detail.


I am now the proud owner of a tattoo. I went against everything I was raised believing, everything my parents have told me, and I could potentially be disowned if they ever found out. I have tried to tell myself and the few people who know that this isn't at all an act of defiance; that I really only got this for myself. But that's simply not the case. This is me closing the door on my most agonizing, long lasting act of defiance. I was a cutter for five years, and while each specific instance had a different cause, the core motivation was always the same: I wanted them to notice me and my real problems, and not my brother's problems, or my sister's bad relationship, or make cruel comments about my weight or my inability to grasp the concepts in Algebra.

I have finally figured out why I did it. I did it for attention, but not the kind of attention that most kids who cut are accused of. No, I wanted attention at the most basic level. I wanted them to love me for me, not for what I could or could not do. That is why for the first year or so, I wasn't very careful about where I cut - my forearm could have had a footlong gash and they probably still wouldn't have noticed it anymore than they noticed the spiderweb of scabs and scars. When I realized that they were really that oblivious, I decided to get more subtle with the location - moving to the upper arms and thighs. If the people whose attention I was so desperate to grab didn't even notice that one of their children was that fucked up, then I didn't need to risk the judgment of anyone else who might see and whose opinions didn't really matter to me.

While my experiences as a child and an adolescent made me strong, they also scarred and jaded me. They forced me to see that the people who are supposed to care about you the most sometimes completely drop the ball and end up abandoning you while still living in the same house.  

This tattoo is the final act of defiance - my last hurrah, if you will. I hope that they never see my tattoo, and the chances are fairly slim because it is on my ribcage and I never even wear bathing suits that would show it. But, for me, it is the closing of that chapter of my life. It is me finally being able to say that I have conquered that problem, and that I will never go back to the way I was then. So, while it is for me, it is also for them and it is dedicated to them.