The subject matter is very true. I grew up in a small town in the mid west. The whole town was full of hicks, rednecks, and sorry for the use "bible thumpers." My mom is a hardcore christian. Faced with the fear of loneliness and gay bashing, I told nobody. It wasn't until January 08 that I came out to my parents and townspeople. But I still had to cope, and I could think of no other way but to cut myself. I wore scars on my arms and legs, but nobody ever said anything about them and the scars went away fast. Eventually the teachers wised up, and while I never went to see the counselor, they did take all knives and razors from me... I found another way. I started burning, it hurt more and the scars lasted longer. I thought that by matching emotional pain with physical pain, I could get through it, but I was wrong. I try real hard not to now because that makes my boyfriend sad. If I feel like I'm gonna lose it, I quickly throw my knives and when I'm mad I have no idea where they are, and I didn't bring my lighters to school with me. So far so good, thanks to all my friends here on gyc as well as my boy friend and the few good friends I still have at home.

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