Being Emo / Cutting

I was a cutter for 4 years of my youth, i cut several times a week, i cut the bottoms of my feet because the WHITE pain was amazing. It was quite the release, i started at my feet and gradually made my way up to my legs, that was pretty difficult at first i have always had beastly hairy legs. Then my thighs that white pain again was intoxicating, it wasn't for pleasure it was for a release once you experience the white you will understand. It takes you away from this universe and places you somewhere far far away. I then moved up to my stomach and chest, i quickly moved up to my arms and hands, then onto my neck and face, yes my face. This became an issue when i went to deep on my neck one day and i had to get medical treatment. Which in turn led to my being admitted to a mental hospital AGAINST my will.

I would then go on to endure two years of terrifying therapy, where i was forced to relive what had happened to me. The flash cards, the memory games, the hypnosis, the medications, the 4 point restraints, the mattress lying in the middle of the room with no frame just on the floor. All of it was just horrible, then to have to watch videos of terrible terrible things, this was my therapy? All in all my cutting led to something far far worse than what i had been doing to myself. So i learned how to suppress my anger, my hurt, my emotions which has done little to nothing for me today accept teach me how to be an "emotional wall" failed past relationships failed jobs until i learned that i could cut in private and as long as i told no one and chose my locations with precision i could once again embrace the WHITE. Now i live a much much healthier life, i am married with 5 kids, i have a home and a job. All in all ones perception on cutting is just an opinion, unless you yourself are a fully functioning cutter.

But what was your reasoning for cutting my friend? I am sorry those awe full things happened but I would really like to know :(

My father was a very very very unpleasant man when i was much younger, every single day i was to remain tucked away in the confines of my respective quarters, out of sight out of mind. I was not permitted to come out of my room unless told to do so, i was told when i was allowed to bathe, use the facilities, come out to eat, how long i had to eat, how long i had to bathe, how long i could use the restroom. I was instructed to do daily chores which consisted of things like clean up after him, his friends, and my step mother. I received a daily beating most of the times a few times a day, from my father and step mother. The beatings typically included but were not limited to extension cord lashings to the backs of my knees and hands, broom handles to the back of the neck and thighs, cigarettes applied generously to the bottoms of my feet. Punching, biting, kicking, smacking, my step mothers favorite thing to do was to stuff her panties into my mouth and slap me really hard in the face then push me backwards and onto my bed. I was allowed to have one hit a day either to my step mother or father i always chose my step mother as she didn't hit nearly as hard. I was forcibly held down on the ground and the same blue and grey striped button down dress shirt was placed over my face and water was poured over the shirt until i would inhale water into my lungs, then my father would pound on my chest to make me cough it up. A thousand other things went on for years, i found solace in cutting it took my mind off of what was to come, the white pain actually felt very nice almost toxic in comparison to what was to come. So i started cutting to alleviate the pain i knew i would surely endure, it was my out it helped me go to a place far far away in my own little head where no one could hurt me.