Забравена парола?
Начало на реферати

The story of my broken heart


The story of my broken heart...


First, let me say that I have extensive experience with cutting, having been a person who has participated in scarification for many years. This is not an experience you should attempt to replicate, because I could have paid very dearly for this experience. This is the story of my broken heart....

When I was a much younger, more naive girl I began cutting, at first looking for some release, and then for the beauty of the scars. I was perhaps fourteen when this particular saga began and seventeen when it ended.

The first incarnation of the six-inch long heart scar on my thigh came about when I was breaking up with someone who I thought I would never get over. I wanted to have a physical way to remember them somewhere that only I could see unless I chose to show it off. So I lay on my bed with the razor pried from a Bic razor, you know the ones that come encased in pink plastic, because it was the only cutting implement I could get my hands on at the moment. Let me interject here, that was my first mistake. Razors made by companies like Bic for shaving have these strips of moisturizers on them that I am positive could have infected the cut, if they had come in contact with it. At the site at which this cut is placed an infection would have likely resulting in me losing my leg, as it is over an area rich with veins for infection to spread through as well as being centered over a major muscle. Tentatively at first I gingerly sliced the form of a heart on to my upper thigh. Then came the jagged line that would signify this heart, my hearts breaking.

When I had finish dragging the razor through my skin, I wiped the wound of with a wad of tissue paper. This was mistake number two, as the tissue paper did as tissue paper will when it gets moist and began to sort of shred and shed little bits of tissue into my open wound. I can easily see now, with as much more experience as I have with this, how such rudimentary methods could have easily caused an infection to set it once again.

Then I decided that I was not content with the depth of the scar and made mistake number three, and went back over the same cut with the same razor without cleaning out the wound. For the third time I was lucky to avoid infection. At this point the muscle I was slicing into was more then a little sore and had begun to burn and sting quite naturally as an irritated cut will do. Cutting such a large piece used much more adrenaline then I was used to expending during my body modifications at the time, so exhausted, I feel asleep, open wound and all.

That was mistake number four. NEVER should you fall asleep with a still bleeding un-bandaged wound. Looking back, if there was ever a time during this process that I was amazed I did not get an infection, this was the time. First off, I was covered by blankets and sheets, which have about a billion opportunities for lint and fuzz to get in the wound, along with a ton of other germs. Secondly, a still bleeding wound, especially of this caliber, could spell trouble along the lines of loosing too much blood and not waking up.

They following days were awash with opportunity for me to have something go wrong, being that I did nothing to care for my poor wound other then wash it with regular soap in the shower every night. This resulted in some extreme redness and tenderness in the wound. I realize today how truly fortunate I am.

For the next several years, I played roulette with fate, reopening the heart every time mine was freshly broken. Which is another horrible thing to do, as you should never reopen old scar tissue, for it is harder to cut through. Not only that, but once you do, its harder to heal and you will have managed to cut yourself at least twice as deep as it was in the beginning, for scare tissue is notorious for acting up when it's reopened.

The story of my broken heart facebook image
Публикувано от: Стелина Василева

Повярвай в себе си 9 out of 10 based on 2 ratings. 2 user reviews.