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Silent Slashing© April Scheiner
Treatment Centers-or-Psychiatrist
An independent study of two female patients
It is our hope that anyone who reads and relates to these stories will seek help soon. There is no shame in getting help. 1% of Americans suffer from some form of self -injury. That means that one in every hundred people with which you have contact, will also have this illness. The good news is that there is help. These two ladies share their stories hoping that, you too, will seek help if you fit the qualifications as a self-injurer. Likewise, in the tales you are about to read, you will be introduced to different methods of self-abuse as well as ways to seek help and learn why you, as a patient, might be prone to injure yourself. If, as in the coming stories, you know someone that is to the level of depression as these ladies are, then I hope that you will encourage them to visit a therapist or psychiatrist as soon as possible. There is a good chance that they too may need help. Patient #1 - Maxine: I was brought up in a quiet New Jersey suburb. My family became an exception when I, at the age of four, found my mother dead. Everyone swarmed me, thinking that they would give me needed attention. Some well-wishers even offered to take me in, as my father was very distraught. Nobody could believe the trauma I suffered as a young child. Such a trauma is referred to as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, which often leads to depression. Nobody could understand why I didn't cry that day. It took me until now to thoroughly understand how I was getting rid of the pain. As a teenager, I began to cope by cutting on myself. Later, I learned that the majority of self-injuring patients come from abusive or broken homes. After my mother's death, I don't think a home could be more broken. Yet, I prospered "as expected," taking my place in college eventually. At this point, cutting had become a secret that I held dear. I always slashed myself by using a knife or razor blade. At times, I would use needles on my upper left thigh so that nobody would take notice of it. With that release, a number of emotions that were hidden inside surfaced to physical pain. This was easier to deal with than the fact that I had not cried since age four. I could not go a day without thinking of cutting myself.
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