A woman I worked with did this to herself for about a year or two. Talk about creepy! She'd arrive covered in criss-cross cuts all along her forearms on both arms. When we tried talking to her about she'd deny anything was really wrong, but the cuttings mixed with the hysterical crying fits told us otherwise (yes, that's an understatement). She's still at my company, and she still crys every now and again, but the self-mutilation did stop.
I believe she stopped when she started volunteering for a small theater company and they eventually made her their stage manager. She required an activity that gave her purpose and pleasure and a peer group that needed her. Once she felt she was part of something bigger than herself she got better. Ain't that the truth for all of us though? We all need a purpose greater than ourselves to give our lives meaning.
1 comment:
tru' dat. cutters make me sad.
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